


Evil Author Day 2020

by DizzyDrea



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, NCIS: Los Angeles, Pacific Rim (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Evil Author Day 2020, F/M, Romance, Rule 63
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:02:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22741441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DizzyDrea/pseuds/DizzyDrea
Summary: A sneak peek of some stories I've started but never finished.
Relationships: G Callen/Nell Jones, Maria Hill/Steve Rogers, Raleigh Becket/Chuck Hansen
Comments: 6
Kudos: 30





	1. NCIS: LA: History and Words Left Unspoken

**Author's Note:**

> These snippets are also posted at my DW account. [Click here](https://dizzydrea.dreamwidth.org/46857.html) if you'd rather read them over there.
> 
> The fandoms I'm posting this year:  
> NCIS: LA: "History and Words Left Unspoken  
> Pacific Rim: "Brave New World"  
> MCU/Captain America: "The Sword He Draws"
> 
> Disclaimer: None of these fandoms belong to me. They belong to other, very talented people that it would take too long to name. Suffice to say I'm not making any money doing this. I do this for fun and for practice. Mostly for fun.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a Callen/Nell story. I got the idea from someone who commented on another story I wrote, though I can't for the life of me remember who it was. Sorry? I still like the story and may continue it at some point, but I haven't watched this show in years so I'm not sure how motivated I'll be. Still, enjoy what's here. Also, please note that there's sex in this, near the beginning of the story. Just wanted to give you a heads-up in case that's not your cuppa.

~o~

G Callen raced through the back streets of Prague, glancing behind him every few seconds as he dodged people going about their normal routines. Every once in a while, he'd catch a glimpse of a large man—sometimes two—dressed all in black, weaving in and out of the foot traffic as they followed Callen through the city streets.

They were persistent, he had to give them that much.

Callen knew he had to get off this merry-go-round, and soon. The thumb drive was burning a hole in his pocket, and if it fell into the wrong hands—namely those two goons behind him—it wouldn't end well. For him or for the people who'd given it to him.

He scanned the street, realizing with some relief that he knew exactly where he was. He spotted the shop a little ahead and ducked in at the last minute, hoping his pursuers hadn't noticed.

He made his way to the back of the shop, shedding his windbreaker along the way. At the back, near the door to the alley, he spotted what he'd remembered was there a few days ago when he'd been wandering around, getting the lay of the land, so to speak. The coat rack stood in the exact same spot, same wool overcoat and cap waiting patiently there. He tugged the coat on and donned the hat, just as the old woman who owned the shop came down the stairs from what he had to guess was the stock room. Or maybe her apartment, he wasn't sure.

"Dĕkuji pĕknĕ," he said, pressing a kiss to her wrinkled cheek as he deposited his jacket on the coat rack, tucking a few bills inside.

He could hear her spluttering reply as he ducked into the alley and headed in the opposite direction he'd been going. If he kept moving, he'd reach the Vltava River and the Charles Bridge. As good a place as any to blend into the afternoon crowds.

Tucking his hands into his pockets, he whistled a low tune as he made his way onto the bridge, discreetly checking his surroundings for the two men who'd been chasing him earlier. He didn't see them, but that didn't mean that they—or anyone else working with them—weren't around.

What he needed was a cover, and he spotted a likely candidate just ahead.

She was small, no more than five feet, with bits of red hair poking out from under a warm hat. She was standing at the railing, staring out at the river with her hands tucked into her pockets. If he had to guess, he'd say she was American, which helped a lot. But more important than any of that was that she appeared to be alone.

He'd have to tread carefully, though. He couldn't afford to attract attention, and her going crazy because she thought he was attacking her would definitely draw the wrong kind of attention.

Pasting a smile on his face, Callen approached the young woman. He leaned down next to her, pressing his shoulder into hers as if they knew each other well.

"I'm a Federal Agent," he said quietly, holding his badge discreetly in his hand so she could see. "I need your help. You game?"

She turned to face him and he was arrested by the most luminous hazel eyes he'd ever seen. They danced with bright gold flecks, the corners crinkling as the face that contained them broke into an amused smile.

"Well, that's an original pick-up line, I'll give you that," she said. "I've never heard that one before."

She turned to face him, and he mirrored her, reaching out to tug at the lapel of her jacket, making a show of flirting with her. "Well then, the guys you've been hanging out with are sadly lacking in originality."

She flicked her eyes over his shoulder and he had to resist the urge to follow her gaze. He suspected he knew what she'd seen. He only hoped she be willing to play along.

Moving quickly, he scooped her up into a tight embrace, burying his face into her neck as she wound her arms around his shoulders. Like this, her feet were barely brushing the pavement, and he had her at his mercy, but she didn't seem phased, just leaned in closer.

"Two guys, kinda brutish looking, dressed all in black, right?" he muttered into her skin.

"Yeah," she breathed out on a shudder. "They don't look like they want to just chat either."

Callen chuckled. "No, probably not. We should get moving. The longer we stay here, the more chance they'll spot us."

"You mean you, don't you?" she asked, a hint of amusement bleeding into her voice. "They'll spot you. I can imagine that would be bad."

"You have no idea," he said, pulling back to look at her. "Is there somewhere we can go?"

Instead of answering, she ducked under his arm, looping hers around his waist and guiding him into the crowd. "I know a place."

Callen breathed a silent sigh of relief, squeezing her shoulders in gratitude as they headed away from the two goons still chasing him, off in the direction of the old city.

"I'm George, by the way," he said as they wove through the foot traffic on the bridge.

She hummed, as though she knew it was an alias but had decided to ignore that. "I'm Helen." She paused for a moment, then asked another question. "You going to tell me what this is all about, or do I have to guess?"

Callen glanced behind them as they rounded a corner, but he didn't see anyone following them. But, just for good measure, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to Helen's head. "It's better if you don't know what's going on. Suffice to say that those guys aren't my friends, and this wasn't a social call."

She leaned back and studied him for a moment. "And you're really a Federal Agent? No bullshit?"

"No bullshit," Callen said, chuckling. 

They wandered through a few more streets, as if they were just a normal couple out for a stroll. Callen had to wonder if Helen had learned some tradecraft at some point, because he knew they weren't taking the direct route to wherever it was they were going. 

Finally, they stopped in front of a non-descript door. Helen produced a key from her coat pocket and unlocked the door, revealing a set of stairs with a door at the bottom. She headed straight for the stairs, leading him up two flights before she turned right and headed to a door at the back of the hall.

She unlocked this door with another key and lead him inside. The apartment was bright and airy, despite the fact that it was small. There was an efficiency kitchen and a small living area, and beyond that, a sleeping alcove that held a double bed. A door off the kitchen likely lead to a bathroom, and Callen was willing to bet that it would be just as small as the rest of the apartment.

Not that it mattered too much. Helen was a rather petite woman; the apartment seemed to suit her.

When he turned back to her, he found her eyebrow raised. "Does it meet with your approval?"

Callen's smile was slightly chagrined. "It's nice. I'm assuming you live here alone?"

"Yep, just me," she said. She shed her jacket and hat onto a hook on the wall, waving at him to do the same. He noted with amusement that though her jacket was a muted shade of charcoal, her blouse was anything but: a brightly colored floral with a rich blue sweater and dark skirt, leggings and shoes, and all of it setting off her red pixie cut and pale skin to perfection. Definitely unique. Definitely American. "I'm actually here doing a semester at NYU Prague for my Master's. I figured, why get a huge apartment if I'm only going to be here a few months?"

"Makes sense," he said. He added his hat to the borrowed coat on the hook by the door and tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "Listen, thanks for bailing me out back there. It took a lot of guts to do what you did, and I want you to know I appreciate it."

Helen shrugged. "I'm just one American helping another American out." She moved to the kitchen and started fussing with a kettle. "Coffee?"

"Sure," he said. 

He wandered around the apartment, such as it was, looking more closely at the little touches that screamed Helen and not a borrowed apartment. The picture frame on the window sill caught his attention, so he picked it up. There was a crowd of people of all different ages grinning like mad at the camera. Her family, he'd bet, and what a family it was. He felt the jealousy rise up, letting himself regret for just a moment that he'd never had that kind of life, not even with the foster families he'd had over the years.

"You miss your family?" he asked as he replaced the picture on the sill.

Helen glanced at him, then at the photo, and shrugged. "Sometimes I do. Not that the time difference has stopped them from checking up on me. It can be kind of exhausting, to be honest."

"Still, it's gotta be nice to have people who care about you," he said thoughtfully. He settled on the couch, laying an arm over the back as he relaxed into the cushions, tipping his head back and closing his eyes.

He felt the cushion dip and lifted his head to find Helen seated on the couch next to him, holding out a cup of coffee. He was somewhat startled to realize that some time had passed since he'd sat down. Enough time for Helen to have brewed a pot of coffee in the French Press he'd seen her fiddle with, anyway. It had been a long time since he'd felt so comfortable with someone he'd only just met. With anyone, really, he acknowledged ruefully. He took the cup with a grateful smile, sipping at the strong brew as he watched his new companion.

"You're not afraid of me, are you?"

"Should I be?" she asked, raising that damnable eyebrow at him again.

He found himself unwillingly intrigued by her bravery and forthrightness. Most women, when approached by a strange man with an even stranger request, would have walked away, or worse, made a scene and then run away.

But not Helen, and that sent a thrill through him.

"You don't know anything about me," he said, raising his eyebrow in challenge. "I could be a serial killer. Or worse."

Helen's eyes grew comically wide for just an instant before they crinkled into a knowing smile. "And are you? A serial killer, I mean."

"I could be," he found himself insisting. It felt a lot like they were flirting, and Callen was having more fun than he could ever remember having with a date. Even if this wasn't really a date.

"You could be," she said, winking, "but you're not."

"And you know this because…"

"Well, for one thing, your badge is authentic," she said, sipping at her coffee. "And for another, you just don't look like a serial killer."

"Met many serial killers, have you?" he asked.

She opened her mouth to answer, then promptly shut it. "Good point."

"If it would make you feel better, you could call the US Embassy in Prague," he said. "I could give you a code phrase that would connect you with someone who can verify I am actually a Federal Agent."

"That won't break your cover?" she asked.

"No," he said. "They do this all the time for agents abroad. You need the number?"

Helen got up and pulled her phone out of the pocket of her coat. "No, I got it." When Callen raised an eyebrow, she shrugged. "One of the first numbers I programmed in after I got here. A girl can never be too careful."

"Tell the operator that you need to speak to someone in the Marketing Department, regarding the Dolman account. They'll know what to do."

Callen watched and waited as she went through the process, smiling when she raised her eyebrow and gave him a disbelieving stare. When the call was done, she dropped onto the sofa and burst out laughing.

"George Costanza, really?"

Callen shrugged. "It's not like most people in Prague have ever seen Seinfeld. Up until a handful of years ago, most of them had never even met a New Yorker."

"True," she said. She turned to face him, resting her head on his arm along the back of the couch. "How long can you stay?"

"Would it be too much of an imposition to say 'until after dark'?"

His heart hammered in his chest as he waited for her to answer. He didn't understand why he'd felt an instant connection to this woman, or why he was so desperate to stay with her for even just a few hours. She was fascinating, but he knew no matter how much he wanted to, his time—his life, to a certain degree—wasn't his own. And, he was due to rotate back to the States soon, so even if he did find a way to draw things out with this woman, he doubted he'd ever see her again once he left.

But those were thoughts for tomorrow. Just once, he wanted to live in the moment and consequences be damned.

"I was kinda hoping you'd say that," she whispered.

~o~

Helen leaned up and kissed him, her tongue wasting no time seeking entrance to his mouth. The contact was electric, like lightning striking right there in her living room. Callen threaded his fingers through her hair, tilting her head as he deepened the kiss.

She surprised him when she shifted over, climbing into his lap as she settled her hands on his neck, her thumbs caressing his jaw in time to the stroke of his tongue through her mouth.

He moaned as sensations flooded through him, thrilled at the idea that this woman wanted him as much as he wanted her. And suddenly he was impatient for more.

He pulled back, resting his forehead against hers. "Bed?"

"Mmmm, bed," she said decisively.

She pushed up off his lap and grabbed his hand, pulling him up off the couch and the few feet to her bedroom. He turned at the foot of the bed, cradling her face in his hands as he dove in for more kisses. Her hands found their way under his sweater, tugging the t-shirt out of his jeans. He moaned again when her fingers brushed the skin at his waist, little trails of fire following as she caressed up his back.

Callen's hands trailed down over her shoulders and down her arms, hooking under the hem of her sweater and tugging it up, tossing it to the floor as he moved in for another kiss. His fingers started on the buttons of her shirt, but he suddenly lacked coordination, he was so impatient to get to skin.

Helen giggled as he struggled with the buttons. "Too many clothes," he muttered into her lips.

"Let me," she said.

She stepped back and made quick work of the buttons of her shirt, dropping it to the floor, quickly followed by her skirt and leggings. She crawled up onto the bed in just her bra and panties, sprawling out and giving him a come-hither look that melted whatever self-control he might have had left.

Callen tugged off his sweater and t-shirt, shed his jeans and was crawling up over her in no time. He settled on top of her, his elbows taking most of his weight as he gazed down into her eyes, glowing golden in the muted light.

"You're sure about this?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm sure," she said, smiling up at him.

That was enough for Callen. He set about tasting every inch of flesh he could reach, his lips painting a trail over her torso. With every nip of teeth or taste of his tongue, she made the most delightful noises, squirming under the onslaught of sensation. She was, by far, the most responsive partner he'd had in a while, and it made him want to just keep going, see how many different sounds he could draw out of her.

But, that would have to wait. He moved back up her body, settling back over her as he nipped at her earlobes.

"Condoms?" he asked, pulling back to look at her.

She stretched her hand up, pointing at the shelf above her head. "In the box, there."

Callen's eyes followed her hand, up to the shelf over the bed. The room was so small that there wasn't room for a nightstand, but he'd totally missed the shelf with her alarm clock and a couple of books, plus the small box she'd pointed to. He pushed up onto his knees, smiling down at her as she ran her hands up his legs, her fingers dipping under the hem of his boxers to tickle at the crease of his thighs.

"Getting impatient?" he asked as he pulled a condom out of the box.

"Maybe," she said, winking at him.

She let one hand trail over the material of his boxers to ghost over his erection. He gasped at the contact, closing his eyes as he felt his cock twitch in response. He was surprised he was that close, though he shouldn't have been. It had been a while since he'd been with anyone. Tracy had been the last—and he knew he'd better cut off that line of thought as quickly as it appeared. 

Nothing like thinking about the ex to kill the moment with a new partner.

Callen dropped the condom on the pillow and settled beside Helen, letting his fingers skate over her skin. "I have to warn you: it's been a while. I might just go off like a bottle rocket."

"We wouldn't want that, would we?" she asked with an impish grin.

He popped the clasp on her bra and flicked the material aside, setting about nipping and licking and teasing her nipples into pert peaks. She threaded a hand into his hair and held on, the sting a pleasant buzz over already-stimulated nerves. 

Moving quickly, he shed his boxers and untangled her from her bra and underwear. His eyebrow and his estimation of her rose when she stretched her arms over her head, putting all that alabaster skin on display for him. A saucy wink and he knew he'd never be rid of this woman, whether he ever saw her again or not.

He tore open the condom packet and rolled it onto his cock, shuddering a little as he stroked himself. He really did need to get laid more often if this was what happened when in the presence of a beautiful woman.

Settling between her legs, Callen looked into her dancing green eyes. "You ready?"

"Mmmm," she hummed, hooking a leg around his hip as she nudged his cock. "More than."

He took her lips in a fierce kiss as he pressed inside her, swallowing her gasp along with his own. This definitely wasn't going to last long, so he'd have to make it as good as possible. He did have a reputation to uphold.

Pressing into her in long strokes, he kept kissing and nipping at her lips, her chin, her ears. She wrapped her legs around him, pushing up to meet each stroke, exposing the long line of her neck to his wandering lips. He could feel his orgasm building from the soles of his feet and knew he was close.

Callen reached for her hands, lacing their fingers together, bracing their joined hands above her head, using that for leverage as he chased a shared orgasm. He met her eyes, seeing passion and fire swimming in the green pools. It was a magnificent sight, one he would remember for a long time to come if he had any say in it.

Helen tipped over the edge first, her body arcing off the bed, gasps and moans echoing in the quiet room. Callen wasn't far behind, his own orgasm punched out of him, leaving him gasping for air. 

Aware he was probably squashing her, he moved to the side, rescuing the condom before it spilled its contents all over them and the sheets. He quickly tied it off and rolled out of the bed to toss it in the trash can in the kitchen. When he made it back to the bed, Helen had crawled under the covers. Not even giving it a second thought, he pulled the covers back and joined her, pulling her close to him.

She settled into his arms and hummed her contentment. Callen dropped a kiss on her head and closed his eyes, willing to just bask in the warmth and closeness for a little while. 

~o~

Hours later, Callen dressed quietly in the moonlight filtering in through the window. Helen lay on her stomach, sleeping peacefully. The covers had drifted down her body as he'd carefully crawled out of bed, leaving the milky skin of her back to glow in the semi-dark. 

He paused for a moment, committing the image to memory. He'd had no idea when he'd met his contact that morning that his day would end this way. It had been a long time since he'd met anyone he clicked with right off the bat. He wanted to stay, but wanting that was dangerous. And not only because of the men that had been chasing him.

G Callen was a man without roots. One of the reasons he was so good at his job was because he could become anyone at all, simply because he didn't know who he really was. And until he had some answers about his past, he didn't feel like he had anything to offer someone else. 

For the first time in a long time, he wished he did.

But wishing wouldn't gain him anything, so he finished dressing and quietly slipped out the door and into the night.

~o~

Five Years Later…

Callen sat at his desk in the bullpen staring at nothing in particular, twiddling a pen between his fingers, thinking.

Thinking hard.

About things that shouldn't need so much thought. Like coincidences, and how Walt Disney was right and this really is a small world.

And about how Nell Jones was the Helen from his fondest memory of Prague—his fondest memory, period, if he were being honest.

When he'd left the small flat in the Old City, he'd expected never to see her again. And up until that day, he probably wouldn't have cared. He'd been the love-em-and-leave-em type, never forming attachments and never staying with one woman for too long. Tracy had been… a mistake, born out of youth and stupidity, and after everything that went down with her, he'd promised himself to just stay the hell away from any sort of commitments.

And not only because dating a fellow agent was a bad idea, but because his life was dangerous enough without adding someone he cared about to the mix. Oh sure, he cared about people. Sam was at the top of that—admittedly short—list, but it pretty much started and ended with him. Sam Hanna was like the brother he'd never had, and they'd clicked almost from the beginning.

Just like he and Helen.

No, just like he and Nell.

Callen shook his head, still trying to wrap his brain around that one.

"You okay, partner?"

Callen looked up, seeing Sam settling in behind his desk. "Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

"You've been distracted since this morning's briefing," Sam said. His face broke into a grin. "There for a minute, you looked like you'd seen a ghost."

"No, not a ghost, per se," Callen said, shaking his head. "More like a blast from the past."

"One of the case files?" Callen shook his head again. Sam tilted his, frowning for a moment until an almost-literal lightbulb went off above his head. "Really?"

"Look, just forget it," Callen said, leaning forward and refocussing on the report he was supposed to be writing. They had two active cases—that's what the briefing was for, to go over any new leads that had come in overnight—plus they'd just solved a case. He really did need to finish his report, but he just knew Sam wasn't going to let this go. He was like a pitbull on a bone, especially when it was something you didn't want him to know about.

But instead of nipping at the juicy new secret Callen was keeping, he leaned back in his chair and gave him a contemplative look. "So, what are you going to do?"

"For the moment? Finish writing this report."

Sam rolled his eyes. "About…" he said, waving his hand in the direction of Ops.

"I don't know," Callen said quietly. He rested his elbows on the desk, propping his chin on his folded hands. "I don't know if there's anything to do. It's not exactly the ideal situation."

"You're clearly not the only one," Sam said. He'd probably seen Nell's startled, eye-widening glance at Callen when they walked into Ops on her first day. She'd schooled her face pretty quickly, but he'd bet good money that Hetty had seen it. Sam certainly had. "She hasn't…?"

"No." Callen sighed. "Maybe it's best to just leave the past in the past. We're different people now. And this is a different situation. Not quite so life-and-death."

"Maybe," Sam said on a shrug. "But you're gonna be seeing each other every day for the foreseeable future. Might be worth it to at least clear the air."

"Maybe," Callen said, though his tone clearly said 'probably not'. 

The sound of Kensi and Deeks approaching—their conversation more of a playful fight—sent Callen focusing back on his report. Sam just gave him a look that said they'd be revisiting this conversation again at a later date. He wanted to groan; Sam had been trying to fix him up on a date since almost the first moment they'd been introduced. This wasn't going to help.

~o~


	2. Brave New World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This story is most definitely AU, and involves a gender-swapped Chuck Hansen. This is obviously only a small snippet of a longer fic. I have no idea if I'll ever go back and finish it, but I still like the idea, so who knows?

~o~

Charlie Hansen stared at the Marshall, the crushing truth of his words sitting like a rock in her stomach.

_We can clear a path for the lady._

Her thoughts turned to her father in LOCCENT. Herc Hansen would be hearing everything; he'd know that they were never coming back. Not that any of them had really believed that they would, but believing they'd be coming back had been the only thing keeping them together during the preparations. 

And Raleigh.

Her heart skipped a beat as an image of the way she'd last seen him floated through her mind. She could see Stacker's sympathy in his eyes as she thought of the other Ranger. They'd said their goodbyes last night, but she still couldn't help the small pang of regret.

And then she sobered. Stacker Pentacost was counting on her, and she wasn't going to let him down, not for anything or anyone. Not even for Raleigh Beckett.

_My father always said: if you have the shot, take it. It's been a pleasure serving with you, sir._

With a steely determination that belied the sadness in her heart, she reached out for the switch, intending to follow through on the Marshall's last command.

~o~

What happened next was a blur, but later she'd remember two things: the Marshall's last words (One of us has to experience this brave new world), and the blank determination in his eyes.

When she came to in the escape pod, she had no idea how long it had been. She had no idea if the breach was closed, if they'd managed to win, dammit, against all odds and against an enemy that could throw organic ammo at them in limitless waves. All she knew was that her head hurt, her ribs hurt, her shoulder hurt, and she couldn't pop the lid on the damned pod for reasons she didn't want to think too hard about.

She had no idea how long she floated in the pod, waiting for someone at the Shatterdome to notice her pod's transponder—if the little bugger was even still working; she had her doubts about that, too, considering the nuclear explosion that had gone off right underneath her—blinking away in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.

Finally, after way too long spent thinking about what she was going to do first—it was a tossup between kissing everyone she thought she'd never get the chance to see again and get good and drunk—she heard the unmistakable thwap-thwap of helicopter blades slicing through the blue sky above her.

The para-rescue jumper dropped down on top of the pod and tried to pop the lid, but it wouldn't budge, something she'd found out about five minutes after she'd surfaced. But it was the expression on his face when he looked inside that would stay with her. She knew most of the crews, had trained with them for just this scenario, but he was looking at her like he had no idea who she was. Charlie had to wonder if maybe she'd hit her head harder than she'd thought, if maybe there was blood obscuring her face and that's why he didn't recognize her.

Instead of delaying, he called for a hoist and the helicopter lifted her pod inside. The ride to the Shatterdome was quick, thankfully, because Charlie had had just about enough of the inside of the pod. It took them several more minutes to pry the lid off once they'd reached the Shatterdome, and by the time she got out, she was sweating and grimacing in pain.

The medics surrounded her as soon as she stepped out of the pod, completely obscuring her view of the rest of the landing area. Charlie tried to see over their heads, to find at least one familiar face, until she heard a voice she recognized.

"Let me through!"

"Raleigh!" Charlie called out, shoving aside the medic trying to dab at the cut over her eye she wasn't aware she had.

He emerged from the crowd and stopped short, tipping his head as he looked at her standing there, one arm wrapped protectively around her damaged ribs, blood dripping down her face. Her heart leaped in her chest. He was alive, they were all alive. For a second, she felt dizzy with the relief coursing through her.

She must have swayed on her feet, because the next second, strong arms were around her. She melted into the embrace, tucking her face into Raleigh's neck and breathing deep. She never wanted to leave those arms, especially after believing that she'd never see him again, but there was one more thing she'd promised herself in those long minutes stuck alone, floating in the Pacific Ocean.

Pulling back, she raised her uninjured arm and cupped his cheek, pressing up on her toes to kiss him. She slid her hand back, running fingers through his hair as she tilted her head to deepen the kiss. His arm tightened around her as she grazed his lower lip with her tongue, drawing a shudder from him even as he opened to her.

A startled "Oi!" pulled them apart.

Charlie leaned around Raleigh, spotting her father charging into the landing area and headed straight for her. She let out a pained groan and pushed away from Raliegh, straight into her father's arms. She didn't register the way he held her stiffly for the briefest moment, the same way Raleigh had done, before winding his uninjured arm around her and resting his chin on her head. In that moment, she only knew one thing for sure: she was home. Home. The rest of the world could go hang themselves for all she cared. She didn't need anything else but this.

After a long minute, her father pulled back from the hug, holding her at arm's length and giving her a look that sent ice water through her veins.

"Who are you?" he asked, voice trembling in way she hadn't heard since the day her mother died. "And what have you done with my son?"

And then Charlie did the only thing she could in a situation like this: she passed out.

~o~  
Charlie came to consciousness slowly, taking stock of the aches and pains as she surfaced. She could feel the twinge in her ribs as she took a deep breath, and she could barely move her shoulder, but overall it wasn't too bad. Of course, her head felt like it was wrapped in cotton, but she figured that must have been the good drugs, because she should be in far more pain than she actually was.

Voices started filtering through as she lay there; she recognized her father's voice, but not the other.

Can't explain… exact match… perfectly normal… ran them a dozen times…

Must be the doctor, she thought. It was strange that she didn't know who the doctor might be; she knew everyone in the Shatterdome, even the techs on the other Jaegers, at least by sight if not by name. She shrugged, forgetting for a moment that she'd quite likely dislocated her shoulder at some point. The action drew a groan from her, and just like that, the voices stopped and both men stepped to her bed.

"Are you in any pain, Ranger?" the doctor asked.

Charlie shrugged again, hissing as more pain lanced through her shoulder. "Yeah," she ground out. No sense trying to be a hero about it. Her father would lecture her about the value of speaking up when she was hurt instead of trying to prove just how tough she was.

The mere thought of him drew her eyes to where he stood. He was raking his eyes over her, looking for something though it was clear he wasn't finding it, and it frustrated him.

"M'fine, Dad," she mumbled. "Banged up, but I'm fine."

"Yeah, you're about as far from fine as it's possible to get, Ch—kid," Herc grumbled. 

He reached out and ran his hands through her hair—someone must have pulled it out of the bun she usually wore it in under her drive suit helmet—and the action was so achingly familiar that it brought tears to her eyes, reminding her all over again how she'd believed she wasn't coming back the last time she'd seen him.

"How long?" she rasped.

"You've been out for better than twelve hours," the doctor said. Charlie swung her eyes to him, finding a kind pair of brown eyes looking down at her from a pale face ringed in dark, close-cropped hair. "We've checked you over for radiation exposure, but fortunately we've found only trace amounts. You're a little dehydrated; it took the crews longer than I'd have liked to get to you and get you out of the pod, so I'm afraid I'm going to have to keep you here overnight at least. Then we'll see how you feel in the morning before we release you."

His clipped, British tones were unfamiliar, but his voice was somehow reassuring, and Charlie relaxed back into the bed.

"My shoulder?"

Because that was somehow one of the few things that mattered right now. If her shoulder was damaged beyond repair, she wouldn't be piloting a Jaeger ever again, and even though—

"The Breach!" she shouted, sitting up and then groaning when her shoulder and ribs protested despite the drugs.

"Easy now," Herc said. He wrapped an arm around her back and slowly lowered her back down onto the bed. But when he made to withdraw his hand, she grasped it tight, her eyes begging him to tell her. He squeezed her hand, giving her the ghost of a smile that made her stomach plummet into her feet. "We sealed the Breach. No more Kaiju, at least not for a long while."

"Thank god," she muttered, relaxing back onto the mattress but not letting go of her father's hand. They might have closed the Breach, but everything she knew about the Precursors suggested they'd be back. She only hoped that the Powers That Be had the foresight to keep at least one Shatterdome operating, just in case. She squeezed her father's hand again, then turned her attention back to the doctor—Curtis, if his nametag was to be believed. "So, my shoulder, Doc?"

"Grade Three separation," he said, smiling gently at her. "We've reduced it non-surgically; you'll be sore for a while, but with physical therapy you shouldn't have any trouble piloting a Jaeger again. You have several bruised ribs, but no cracks, thankfully. And a concussion, but again mild. I don't anticipate any difficulties, but if you experience anything out of the ordinary, you'll let me know."

It wasn't a request, and Charlie nodded her head in acquiescence, too damned relieved to care if she was being treated with kid gloves. The men looked at each other, and she could tell that there was something else. She wanted to ask, wanted to know where Raleigh was and how they'd managed to close the Breach, but she could feel sleep crowding in on her. Her eyes drifted closed, and she felt rather than heard them both take their leave before she slipped back into unconsciousness.

~o~

The next time Charlie woke, her head felt clearer. She still ached all over but as long as she didn't move too much, it was fine. She opened her eyes, expecting to find her father or Raleigh hovering at her side. She wasn't expecting Mako Mori.

"Good morning," Mako said.

"Morning, is it?"

"Mmmm," Mako hummed. "It is nearly noon. The doctor thought you would like something to eat when you woke up."

Charlie turned her head, just now noticing the tray sitting beside Mako. Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that the last time she'd eaten was right before Pitfall. "Guess I'd better eat something, then," she said, smiling a little sheepishly.

Mako helped her raise the bed enough so she didn't dribble food down her front, then settled the tray in front of her. She dug in with gusto; the Shatterdome was never going to be a four star restaurant, but the food was plentiful and hot. And today was meatloaf day; she'd yet to see the kitchen crew actually screw that up.

"So," Charlie said between bites, "I would have expected my father or Raleigh to be here when I woke up."  
"The Marshall had a conference call that could not be put off."

Ah, yes, the Marshall. With Stacker dead, it would fall to her father to take over, and she could only imagine the kinds of conversations he'd be having with the higher-ups. She could just about picture him in his uniform, cargo pants hidden by the desk he'd be sitting behind, squeezing a tennis ball for all he was worth to keep from letting fly with his considerable and varied vocabulary. People wondered where Charlie got it from, but one look at Herc Hansen and they'd have known she was very much her father's daughter.

"And Raleigh?"

"The doctor advised a minimum of visitors," Mako said.

Charlie narrowed her eyes at her old friend. Something wasn't right here, and she was just now beginning to wonder if it wasn't more serious than everyone wondering what to do now that they'd cancelled the apocalypse. 

"What aren't you telling me, Mako?" Charlie asked.

...


	3. The Sword He Draws Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was my Rough Trade project for July 2019, The Reel End. I wasn't able to finish it before the deadline, and it's just languished on my hard drive ever since. I do plan to finish it, but I got stalled because I really don't like the direction Part 3 was going, so I'm going to scrap it and start over. What's posted here is Parts 1 & 2, which is what made it onto Rough Trade during the challenge. I've tentatively set May aside to finish this. We'll see if I get there. Regardless, it'll go up here when it's finally finished.
> 
> Posted in two parts. Part 1 here and Part 2 in the next chapter.

~o~

The day of Tony Stark's funeral dawned clear and warm. The house, for so long a refuge for Tony and Pepper from the devastation and despair of the rest of the world, was full to overflowing with people who'd come to say goodbye. What had once been a place filled with joy and life now had sadness lurking in every corner.

The funeral itself was very Tony Stark: simple, heartfelt and above all, not flashy. It was who Stark had become in the years since the Snap, the Tony Stark that only those closest to him knew.

Steve Rogers hated every last second of it.

He'd hated it because they'd lost yet another person to Thanos, no matter that they'd finally beaten him at his own game. He hated that—after five years of seeing people-shaped holes everywhere he looked—he'd have to stare at the hole that losing Tony had left in the world, never mind in the life of his daughter.

He hated it because, every time he thought about Tony as he lay dying on the battlefield, having snapped Thanos into dust, he knew he'd failed. He'd failed to be strong enough, fast enough, smart enough. He'd failed to keep the promise he'd made when Tony had brought them the device that would make the time heist possible, that would allow them to undo all that Thanos had done.

He'd failed, and it was eating him up inside.

Still, he'd put on a brave face and stood with his friends to say goodbye. It had been the most difficult moment of his life, far surpassing even the pain of Project Rebirth.

Now that it was over, he had no idea what to do with himself. Oh, there was the wrapping up of loose ends, returning the Stones and setting history to rights, but after that? He just didn't know. He knew what he wanted to do, but he didn't know if he'd actually be able to do it, when the time came.

"Hey, Cap, you okay?"

Steve looked up, past the dancing flames in the firepit in Tony's back yard. Banner was looking at him, concern in his eyes. He glanced around at the circle and found other eyes on him, the same concern flickering in the light of the fire. Sam seemed to be the most worried, but they were all staring at him, as though someone had asked him a question and he'd simply missed it.

"Sorry," he said, slightly chagrined. "I was just woolgathering, I guess."

"S'okay, man," Scott said. "We're all kind of… overwhelmed. Tired. Maybe a little drunk, if I'm being honest."

"Some of us can't get drunk," Sam muttered, giving Bucky the side-eye.

Steve smiled as he lifted the beer bottle to his lips. He took a long sip and then leaned back in his chair, staring up at the stars. "I guess I just can't believe it's really over. Doesn't seem possible."

"At least until the next time, anyway," Bucky said.

"Hey, don't go jinxing it," Sam said. "Last thing we need right now is some alien race or supervillain deciding that now's a good time to set up shop here. We just finished a fight. I, for one, am looking forward to a fucking vacation. Haven't had one of those in a while."

"You think maybe they'd let us go to Hawai'i?" Scott asked. "Or Bora Bora? I'm not picky. I'd just like to see someplace that isn't… here."

Steve snorted as he glanced over at Scott. "You mean you don't like the massive crater where the Avenger's compound used to be?"

"You know, no one talks about what a snarky bastard you are," Scott shot back. "I feel like someone should have told me about that."

"It's what you get for being friends with Stark," Sam said.

They fell silent at the mention of their lost friend, their memories all they had left of him. Steve was the first one to break the silence.

"You're sure the Quantum Bridge will work?"

"It'll work," Banner said. "It's basically the same design as the one we built at the Avenger's compound. Just smaller, because we don't need the massive power output if we're just sending one person."

"And as long as I get all the Stones back to where they came from, the universe won't explode?"

"Time is showing some instability," Banner said. "That should be resolved as soon as you return each Stone to the moment it was taken. I mean, that's what the Ancient One said when I talked to her. As long as the Stones return to the moment they were taken, time should right itself."

"And if it doesn't?" Steve asked, looking intently at Banner. "What then?"

"Then we're all fucked," Banner said, so matter-of-factly that Steve laughed.

"Then I guess I'd better not fail." 

"You're gonna have to go after Loki, though," Banner said.

"Yeah, I figured," Steve said.

"I could go instead," Banner said. "I promised the Ancient One I'd return the Time Stone to her. You don't have to do it."

"It's okay," Steve said, smiling at his friend. "Really. I'm fine being the one to do it. You're still hurting from the Snap. Besides, someone has to take Mjolnir back to Asgard."

He'd known for a while that he could lift Thor's hammer; he'd played coy because Thor's ego had been more fragile than the man had wanted to admit, and Steve hadn't wanted to damage it further. Though from the looks he got from Thor, he suspected his friend had known all along.

"You sure you don't want some company?" Sam asked. "You don't have to do this alone, you know."

Steve's smile was wane as he looked at his friend across the flames. "It's fine, Sam. I just have to catch him and bring back the Tesseract. How hard could it be?"

"Now you've gone and jinxed it for sure," Bucky said. "You know that, right?"

"It'll be fine, Buck," Steve said. "If I do it right, it shouldn’t take long and then it'll be done and we can all go back to the lives we should have lived."

Bucky huffed but didn't say more. Steve knew what he wanted to say, knew that Bucky wanted to call him out on his shit the way he'd done when they were young, but Steve didn't want to have that conversation. Not yet, and maybe not ever. 

He wasn't sure he wanted to talk about the guilt weighing him down. Bucky would understand it, but that didn't mean Steve wanted him to have to shoulder that burden along with his own. 

What Steve really wanted to do was the one thing he couldn’t do: he wanted to sit with Peggy and tell her all his troubles and have her tell him it would all work out. He wanted that dance with her they'd never gotten. He wanted his happy ending, the one he'd been cheated out of when he went down with the Valkyrie. He could do it; he could go back in time, pick up where he left off. Once he'd returned the Stones to their proper places he could go back and join Peggy, live the rest of his life with her. Have more than just one dance; more than just one kiss.

He thought maybe it wasn't fair that he got to have a happy ending when Tony didn't. The one guy who had everything to live for was the one who didn't make it out alive. He wasn't sure there was anything he could do about it, which broke his heart all the more. 

He only hoped that returning the Stones to their rightful places in history would fix things. Then maybe he could consider his own happy ending. He owed it to Tony to at least try to live again. 

~o~

Two days later, Steve watched as Banner adjusted the new Quantum Bridge. Sam was standing beside him, his quiet shadow over the past few days. He'd been grateful for someone to lean on, even if he did feel a bit selfish for monopolizing Sam's time.

"You sure you don't want some company?" Sam asked. 

"Nah," Steve said, shaking his head. "I've got this."

"You know you don't have to," Sam said quietly. "Pym's back, so we've got enough particles for as many trips as we need. Don't feel like you have to carry this weight alone. It's not wrong to admit you need help."

"Ever the counselor," Steve said, smiling. He glanced at his friend. "I'd rather just go and get it done. No offense, but I can move faster on my own."

"None taken," Sam said. "I just don't like the idea of you out there without backup."

"I've been dressing myself since I was three, Sam," he said. "I think I can handle this."

"And Loki?" Sam asked. "Any idea how you're going to handle that?"

"Some," Steve said. "If I can't catch him at the Tower before all hell breaks loose, I'm not sure how I'll find him."

"I wonder what kind of universe-ending trouble you'll be in with three Captain America's in New York at the same time," Sam said.

"The world's not gonna end with more than one of us in the past," Banner said. "I think we proved that already."

"Still creepy as fuck," Sam muttered.

"I think we'll be ready in a few minutes, Cap," Banner said.

"How's it looking?" Steve asked as he walked over to the control panel.

Banner shrugged the shoulder not in a sling. "Things are still chaotic, but they should even out the more Stones you return to their proper time."

Just then, Bucky emerged from the house to join them. "You about ready?" he asked.

"You trying to get rid of me?" Steve asked, shooting his friend a smile.

"Nah," Bucky said. "I just know you. Job's not done, so you're not gonna let up until it is. Just do me a favor, huh? Be careful out there. I just got my best friend back. I don't wanna have to break in a new one just yet."

"I'm sure Sam would be more than happy to step in if you needed someone to lean on," Steve said. He reached out and pulled Bucky into a hug. 

"You take care of yourself," Bucky said as he pulled back. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

Steve laughed. "Well, that leaves it wide open."

"Okay, we're ready when you are," Banner said. 

Steve closed the latch on the small case holding the Infinity Stones, tugged the gloves that matched his uniform over his hands and then settled the controller onto the back of his left hand. 

"Just make sure to get the Stones back as close to the same moment they left as you can," Banner reminded him. "We don't need any universe-ending surprises."

Steve picked up Mjolnir and headed for the platform. "No surprises. Got it."

"We'll see you on the other side," Banner said.

Steve stepped up onto the platform as Bucky settled in at Sam's side. They looked like old friends, standing there beside each other, both with arms crossed and something near to a scowl on their faces.

"I'd feel better if one of us was going with him," Sam said.

Bucky nodded. "Stevie's always been the stubborn type. Even when he was a scrawny kid he never asked for help."

"I'll be fine, you two," Steve called out. "You won't even have time to miss me."

Neither had an answer for that, just stood scowling at him. He figured they knew something was up, but it wasn't like Steve even knew what he was going to do once he'd returned the Stones to their proper places. 

"Okay, we're going in 5… 4… 3… 2… 1," Banner counted down.

Steve felt the familiar tug behind his navel, and then the world went technicolor as he shrank down and entered the Quantum Realm.

~o~

Steve paused to lean against a brick wall in a nameless back alley in Manhattan. He'd lost track of how long he'd been gone, returning the Stones to their proper places in history. Catching Loki had been both harder and easier than he'd expected, but he'd saved it for last, knowing that would be his biggest challenge.

Seeing Schmidt again had been easily the most horrifying aspect of the job. He'd thought about just walking away, once he'd realized who was standing watch over the resting place of the Soul Stone, but ultimately, he knew the Stone had to return to its rightful place. If he never saw Schmidt again, it would be too soon.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the last remaining Stone, turning it over in his hand as he watched the faint sunlight catch the facets of the crystal structure. He kept his mind blank, having learned early on that stray thoughts could activate some of the Stones if he wasn't careful.

It was deceptively small and light for something so powerful, and yet it represented his heart's desire: the ability to rewind time to a period when he'd been happy. He was pretty sure he could do it—metaphorically, if not actually—without causing problems with the flow of time, but he needed to be sure. 

He squeezed the Stone in his hand and set out for Bleaker Street and the Ancient One. If anyone could tell him whether what he wanted to do was possible, it would be her. According to Banner, she was the expert on time, so he figured he'd just ask her.

It didn't take long to reach the imposing brownstone that the Ancient One and the rest of her sorcerers called home. Before he could even knock on the door, it swung open, beckoning him inside. Steve crossed the threshold, frowning when he didn't see anyone in the foyer.

"Hello?" he called, glancing around the room. "Anyone here?"

The room itself was full of antiques and oddities, some he recognized and others that he didn't. Before he could get a good look at the room, he found himself in another room, presumably in a different part of the house. This room was larger, with huge windows letting in the fading light of the day. Again, lots of strange artifacts strewn across the room. 

It was disorienting, moving around the house without actually taking a single step. He turned in a circle, taking it all in without really seeing it all. When he'd come full circle, he found himself face to face with a bald woman of indeterminate age. She was staring at him, studying him as if he were under a microscope.

"I was expecting Doctor Banner," she said.

"Well, you got me instead," Steve said. "I'm—"

"Steve Rogers, sometimes known as Captain America," she said. "I know who you are."

"And you're…" He waited for her to fill in the blank, but she stood still and just looked at him. "Banner called you the Ancient One."

"I am," she said, inclining her head slightly. "You have something for me."

Steve pulled the Time Stone out of his pocket. He stared at it for a long minute before holding it out to her. "The Time Stone. As promised."

Instead of picking up the Stone as he'd expected, she waved her hands through the air in front of the ornate golden pendant she was wearing. It opened like some crazy Chinese puzzle, and then the Stone just levitated off his hand and into the pendant. It spun closed, and when it was done, she seemed to relax.

"You have my gratitude, Captain," she said, bowing her head. When she looked back up at him, he got the sense that she was looking through him clear to his soul. "This was not your only purpose in coming here. What else do you wish of me?"

"I have… questions," he said.

"Of course you do," she said, a small smile on her lips. When he opened his mouth to start asking them, she held up a hand. "You need rest, and a meal. We will talk tomorrow."

Steve opened his mouth to protest, but instead he found himself in a well-appointed guest suite. On the table beside him was a tray, and when he lifted the lid, it revealed a plate full of warm food: a roast beef sandwich, a bowl of hearty soup, bread and water. His stomach growled, reminding him it had been a while since his last meal

He pulled up a chair and dove in to the food, polishing it off in short order. The tray disappeared, replaced by another that held a coffee pot and cup. Steve shook his head at the flashy display of power but poured himself a cup of coffee and wandered over to the windows. 

The lights of New York were slowly blinking to life, gilding the city with a pale yellow glow. This wasn't the same city he remembered growing up, but it didn't look remarkably different than the New York City he knew in the future. At least, it looked a lot like the New York of a few years from now, before Thanos destroyed his world with the snap of his fingers.

And now he was in the past again, only not his own past. It honestly made his head hurt to think about all the time-hopping he'd done to get to this point. But instead of dwelling on the craziness of his life, he decided what he really needed was a good night's sleep.

Setting his cup on the tray, he crossed the room to the bed. He switched off the controller; immediately, his jeans and t-shirt faded away, to be replaced by his quantum suit. Another tap on the device and the suit folded itself away, leaving him in his uniform. He took off the controller and set it on the bedside table, then stripped efficiently, folding his clothes and setting them on the chair near the bed.

He crawled between cool sheets and lay back, tucking his hands behind his head. He wasn't really sure he could sleep. He had too many questions running through his mind to believe he could get any kind of rest, but his body had other ideas.

Between one breath and the next, he was sound asleep.

~o~

By the time Steve woke the next morning, the sun was already up. A quick glance at the clock on the nightstand told him he'd been asleep for more than ten hours. He was honestly surprised; since Rebirth, he hadn't slept more than six hours a night. His body simply didn't need as much sleep as it used to. That had been one of the hardest things to get used to, but since it had given him more time to study and plan, he hadn't really complained.

He climbed out of bed, stretching as he made his way to the attached bathroom. He found towels and toiletries waiting for him, along with a pile of fresh clothes. When he glanced back into the bedroom, he saw his uniform and the controller right where he'd left them last night. 

Steve shook his head with a smile. The sorcerers were certainly not afraid of displaying their power. It was an odd feeling, having his needs and wants taken care of before he'd even fully formed the thought of them, but it wasn't like living with Stark had been much different. 

Thoughts of Stark sobered him, as they had for… however long he'd been gone. It had felt like weeks, months even, though if he returned to 2023 it would be as if only seconds had passed. He dreaded the idea of returning to a world without Tony Stark. He missed the man like a phantom limb, even if they hadn't really been on speaking terms for most of the last eight years.

Stark was his last connection to his old life, and though it wasn't entirely fair, he depended on Stark as a sort of touchstone. He usually only understood about one word in three when the man got to talking about science, and his pop culture references tended to go right over Steve's head, but Stark had been loyal and generous, a brother in arms and the voice of reason in his ear, even when he didn't really want one.

Shaking off those maudlin thoughts, Steve moved through his morning routine on autopilot. Once he'd showered, shaved and dressed in the jeans and t-shirt someone had left for him, he headed back out to the bedroom. Breakfast was waiting for him on the table: eggs, bacon, toast, and plenty of orange juice and coffee. Again, he shook his head, but didn't hesitate to sit down and dig in.

It didn't take him long to plow through the meal. The food was plentiful and good; it had been a while since he'd had anything approaching regular meals, so the food had been much appreciated. Steve poured himself some more coffee and wandered over to the windows. 

It was still early, but the city was already coming to life. There was a rhythm to life in New York that was familiar, no matter which decade you were living in. Birds, squirrels, cats and dogs were always the first to rise, along with the fleet of garbage trucks. Then the business men—and women these days—headed for their offices. This time of year, children weren't in school, so they were out on the streets playing and laughing.

It was all so… normal. Nothing like what the last five years had been for him. Even now that everyone had been brought back, life was still a messy jumble of the ones who'd been left behind—who'd lived the last five years seeing holes everywhere—and those who'd been snapped out of existence, for whom no time had passed.

Steve sighed. He was tired of dwelling on the past—tired of living in the past. He wanted to be able to move on, but it seemed like every time he tried, something happened to pull him back in. He'd begun to worry that his life would never be his own, no matter how hard he tried to carve out a little peace.

"You know, just once, I'd like things to be simple," he muttered. "Is that too much to ask?"

Suddenly, he was no longer in the guest room, but in a study, with rich wood paneling and floor to ceiling bookshelves. Large rugs covered the floor, anchored by a heavy wooden desk, and flanked by a leather couch and chairs. He turned to find the Ancient One waiting for him.

"More coffee?" she asked politely.

Steve looked down into his cup, finding it empty. He hadn't even noticed he'd finished it, and probably didn't really need more, but he held it out just the same. "Sure."

She filled his cup, then poured one for herself and settled into a corner of the couch. Steve took one of the chairs, sipping his coffee as he studied her. Bald lady with strange robes and power fairly radiating from her. She was… interesting. Her gaze was as penetrating as it had been the night before. She seemed like an old soul, no matter the age of her body.

When he didn't say anything, she raised an eyebrow. "You had questions?"

"Yeah," Steve said. "I do."

"I cannot promise I have answers for you," she said, still staring at him. "Or that there are even answers to be had. But I will do my best to answer what I can."

"Fair enough," he said. He leaned forward and set his cup on the coffee table. "First question: is the timeline stable, now that I've returned the Stones to their proper places?"

She hummed. "You don't pull your punches. Very well. Let's have a look, shall we?"

She set her cup down on the table beside her and waved a hand in the air. A streak of red-gold darted across the room, stretching out in both directions the length of the room. One end sparkled so brightly it was almost white. Steve followed the glowing streak across the room, until his eyes reached a point beyond where he was sitting. 

Instead of a shining line representing the flow of time, the bright, beautiful red-gold faded into a muddy, chaotic mess.

"No branches," he said, relieved that he'd been able to set the timeline to rights. The grey chaotic mess at the other end bothered him, even though he didn't know why. He waved a hand at the other end of the timeline. "What's going on over there?"

"That is damage to the timeline," she said sternly. "I warned Doctor Banner that removing the Stones from their proper place in time would have consequences."

"But you also agreed with him that returning them to where they belong would fix the timeline," Steve said. "Which I've done. The Time Stone was the last one, so this all should be fixed, except clearly it isn't."

The Ancient One rose and walked over to the far end of the room, ducking under the gleaming streak of time, examining it from every angle. She turned to Steve, a contemplative look on her face.

"What happened after you retrieved the Stones?" she asked. "Did you use them?"

"Well, yeah," Steve said, standing up to join her. He stood facing her, the writhing mass of grey between them. "That was the whole point. Thanos used the Stones to destroy the Stones, so we had to grab them from earlier in time to fix what he'd done."

"He destroyed them?" she asked. "You're certain?"

"Yes, he did," he said, nodding his head. "We saw the burned out gauntlet, and the damage it did to his body. He said it almost killed him, but that he needed to do it so he wouldn't be tempted to use them again. That's why we needed to take the Stones from the past. We returned everyone that was dusted, and then Tony snapped Thanos and his armies out of existence." Steve paused as he looked at the timeline. "Is that why it looks this way? Should we not have erased Thanos?"

"Erasing Thanos would not have caused this kind of damage to the timeline," she said, shaking her head to emphasize the point. "But destroying the Stones might. They hold the universe together. Without them, it will fall apart. Not today, and not tomorrow, but someday."

"See, there's where you lost me," Steve said. "How do six Stones hold the universe together?"

The Ancient One swept her hand through the air, erasing the timeline she'd drawn. When she waved her hand again, one gleaming Stone was suspended in the air above them. 

"The Time Stone," she said, indicating the glowing green gem slowly spinning in the low light of the room. "After the creation of the universe, the base elements that form the universe gathered and formed into the six Infinity Stones. This Stone—the Time Stone—governs the flow and perception of time."

"This Stone," she said as another Stone appeared, "is the Space Stone—what you know as the Tesseract. It forms the warp and weft of the fabric of the universe. The stars you see in the sky at night hang in the heavens because of the Space Stone."

A purple gem appeared next. "The Power Stone. The engine of the atom and the star. And the Mind Stone"—a familiar orange Stone appeared—"which gives form to the consciousness of all beings."

"The Reality Stone—what the Asgardians called The Aether—drives our perception of reality—the world around us. And the Soul Stone, creator of the beating heart of the individual."

All six Stones hung in the air, spinning gently in an arc in the air between them. They were honestly beautiful, as so many things of power were. It was no wonder they were so sought after.

"So, their power radiates out into the universe, from wherever they are," Steve said, watching as the Stones started creating ripples in the air, like the surface of water disturbed by a pebble. "And as the waves cross, they interact. Create life, give form and shape to…"

"Everything," she said. "Yes. And without their influence, the universe will fail."

"Like a house without a foundation," Steve said.

"Precisely," the Ancient One said, smiling at him like he was her star pupil.

"Let me guess, their power is diminished now that they've been reduced to dust."

"The power of the Stones is in the Stones themselves," she said. "The concentrated elements of each Stone is what gives it power."

"So if the actual physical crystal of the Stones has been shattered, the power that each one contains is dissipated, until it no longer has enough power to influence the universe," he said. The Ancient One inclined her head in a nod. Steve took a deep breath. "So eventually, without their influence, the universe will just… peter out."

"Or explode spectacularly," she said. "There's no knowing which. Either way, the universe as we know it will cease to exist."

"So how do we stop it?"

"Prevent the Stones from being destroyed," she said, as though that were the obvious answer.

Steve crossed his arms over his chest. "And how do you propose to do that? Going back to the past and changing anything creates a branching timeline. Banner said that would be bad, which is why I had to track down Loki and return the Tesseract to its proper place before the job was done."

"Ordinarily, branching timelines would indeed be bad," she said. "They have a destabilizing effect on time. However, in this case, were you to go back in time and alter events, the new branched timeline will become the primary timeline, and the damaged one will eventually fade away."

"Which would fix what Thanos broke, once and for all," Steve said. 

"Quite so," she said. "The only choice you face is where in time you feel you can do the most good."

Steve sighed, squeezing his eyes shut. Was it ever going to end? Every time he thought he'd finally won the war, a new battle cropped up. He'd willingly signed up to be the hero, but he'd expected the job to have a finite life. To be asked, time and again, to save the world was exhausting. 

Not that he'd ever even considered walking away, even in the darkest days after Ultron and the Sokovia Accords, when he and Tony had been on opposite sides of the fight and Steve had effectively become a fugitive. He'd still been doing what he could to save the world, just doing it more quietly than before.

But it looked like he was going to have to save the world one more time. Which meant that he'd have to put off his own happiness again. Letting go of the idea of going back to be with Peggy was surprisingly easy, which was actually a pretty big clue. Maybe he was more attached to the idea of being in love with her rather than actually being in love with her. 

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, opening his eyes to find the Ancient One watching him. "How far back can I go? And how much can I change when I get there?"

"You can go back as far as you need to, but I must caution you," she said. "Going too far back may see you in the wrong place to effect meaningful change. As for how much you can change, that is up to you. You will be creating a new timeline. Any changes will make it more difficult for you to predict where Thanos will be, if your goal is to stop him from acquiring the Stones at all."

"So, I need to go back to a place in time where I'll be in position to confront Thanos when he makes it to Earth," he said. Maybe he could even fix a few things along the way. "What about my younger self? How do I deal with him? I mean, I could work from the shadows, but it would be easier if I could just step into my own life, whenever I end up."

"That is something you will have to decide on your own," she said. "I cannot tell you how to accomplish what needs to be done."

"Right," Steve said. "How long do I have to decide? I mean, do I need to go now?"

She swept her hand through the air again; the Stones disappeared, and in their place, the timeline shot through the room again. A pulsing light appeared, some way away from the chaotic end of the timeline.

"This is when we are," she said. "Every day the damage goes unchecked, it will reach farther back in time. Eventually, all of history will unravel. For now, we are stable, but that will change eventually."

"So, I can take a few days to decide," he said, his shoulders sagging a bit in relief. He didn't want to be rash and just run off to take on this new task. He wanted to consider his options and make the best decision he could. A lot was riding on this.

"You are welcome to remain here while you consider your options," she said. "And should you have any questions, you only need ask."

Between one blink and the next, she was gone, and so was the timeline she'd shown him. Not that he needed to see it to know that time was eventually going to run out. He knew what he had to do; now he just needed to figure out how to do it.

~o~

In the end, Steve had stayed almost a week at Bleaker Street. He'd talked to the Ancient One a couple of times, but mostly he'd kept to himself. Deciding how far back to go, as it turned out, had been the easy part. Deciding what he could change and what had to remain the same had been infinitely harder.

He'd talked through all the possible ripples with the Ancient One, and she'd assured him that his plan was sound, though not even she could see what the future he was planning would hold. Ultimately, he'd have to take the leap and hope for the best.

Which was how he found himself standing on the street outside Stark Manor in the fall of 1948. He stared up at the stone façade, with its ornate cornices and the ostentatious gate keeping unwanted visitors out. Fortunately, Steve knew a way around the gate, courtesy of Tony Stark and a late-night conversation after the fall of SHIELD.

Steve walked along the fence until he came to a hidden gate on the back side of the property. He slipped through the gate and down the stairs into the tunnel that would connect him with the cellar and eventually the kitchen. Steve felt a small twinge of guilt for using the knowledge Tony had entrusted to him to break into his father's house, but that guilt was quickly subsumed by the need to speak to Howard and start the changes he needed to make to save Tony and the rest.

A quick five minutes after he'd stepped through the gate, he was pushing the kitchen door open only to be faced with the business end of a gun. He stopped short, put his hands up and took a good look at who was holding the gun.

"Howard," Steve said, relief flooding him at finding his friend at home, despite the fact that he was holding a gun on Steve.

"Steve?" Howard asked. The gun wavered a bit as confusion flitted across Howard's face. His resolve seemed to firm up as he was faced with the seemingly impossible sight of his friend alive and well. "Who the fuck are you? And why are you wearing Captain America's face?"

"I'm Steve Rogers, Howard," he said quietly. "I'm not a ghost, and I'm not an imposter."

"Bullshit," Howard said. "Steve Rogers is dead. He went down on a Hydra plane two years ago."

"Yeah, I did," Steve said.

"Then how the fuck are you in my kitchen?" Howard asked.

"That's a long story," Steve said. "One I came here to tell, but I'd rather not do it with a gun pointed at me."

"Sorry, but until I'm sure you're really him, I'm not putting the gun away," Howard said.

"Fair enough," Steve said. "How shall I prove I'm really me?"

"Tell me something only you would know," Howard said.

"Hmmm," Steve hummed, thinking back over the time they'd spent together after he'd joined the war effort in earnest. "Well, right before I rescued the Commandos, when we were in the plane, you were talking about fondue. I thought that was a euphemism for sex. You probably thought I was a hick or an idiot, but you just laughed and shrugged it off."

"Holy shit, Steve," Howard said, lowering the gun to stare at him in open shock. "It's really you, isn't it?"

"It's really me," Steve said. 

"Jesus, c'mere," Howard said. He dumped the gun on the counter to his left and pulled Steve into a hug.

Steve held on far longer than he'd expected to. It was just so damned good to see someone he'd lost so long ago. When he pulled back, he could see the longing in Howard's eyes, too.

"You hungry at all?" Howard asked. "I can't cook much, but I can scramble eggs better than most."

"I'm good, thanks," Steve said. "I could use some coffee, though."

"Lucky for you, I just put a pot on," Howard said, giving him a winning smile. "Grab a seat and I'll bring you some."

Steve wandered over to the kitchen table and sat down, taking in the room for the first time. It was a spacious kitchen; warm and inviting. It was probably state of the art for the 1940s, but to Steve's eye, it was all so very… vintage. Tony had installed every conceivable modern convenience in the Tower, so that no one had to go far for anything they wanted. 

Howard brought over a pot and two mugs, poured out the coffee and then sat across from him, staring at him as if he'd disappear if he blinked. He took a sip of his coffee, and Howard mirrored him, never taking his eyes off the other man. Steve would be creeped out by it, but considering he was presumed dead, he could understand the impulse.

"So, you have a long story to tell," Howard said. He leaned back in his chair, watching Steve over the rim of his mug. "Spill. Start with how you survived the plane crash."

"I went down with the Valkyrie," Steve said quietly. "As the plane sank under the ice, I just… gave up, I guess. I laid down on the floor of the plane and went to sleep. I thought I was going to die; the plane went down in the Arctic, nowhere near civilization, so rescue was a pipe dream. I never expected to wake up, but I did. In 2012."

"Holy shit!" Howard exclaimed, sitting bolt upright. "The ice must have put you in some form of stasis. The serum ramped up your metabolism, so I could see how that might help save your life."

"That's what the doctors think," Steve said. "It's the only explanation that makes any sense, anyway."

"Wait, did you say you woke up in 2012?" At Steve's nod, Howard just stared at him, slack-jawed. "How are you even here? I mean, in case you haven't noticed, we're nowhere near 2012."

"That's part of the long story I need to tell you," Steve said.

Howard must have seen the pinched look in Steve's eyes. "That must have been a shock, waking up."

"It felt like I'd time traveled," Steve said, which was an irony not at all lost on him in that moment. "Everything was different. New York was still my home, but I barely recognized it. And I really didn't have much time to acclimate; we were hit with an alien invasion just a few months after I woke up."

"Aliens?" Howard asked weakly. "Jesus. We thought Hitler was bad enough."

"Yeah, there's some seriously fucked up shit waiting for us in the future," Steve said.

"You know, no one believed me when I told them you could out-swear a merchant marine," Howard pointed out casually.

Steve chuckled. "No one would believe it in the future, either. Whenever I'd swear in front of someone, they looked… scandalized. As if a Saint had just taken the Lord's name in vain right there in front of them."

"So, who found you? Me?" Howard asked.

"It was SHIELD," Steve said. "They didn't tell y—they didn't tell anyone at Stark Industries, despite the fact that SI had funded the expedition to find me every year since… well, now."

"Those fucking bastards," Howard muttered. "I don't trust 'em, especially not after they almost arrested me for stealing my own damned weapons."

"Yeah, well, it doesn't get much better in the future," Steve said, thinking back to the secrets that Fury kept, and the way he'd been manipulated repeatedly to suit Fury's agenda. 

"So, you woke up in the future, and now you're back in the past," Howard said. "How the hell did you end up in the past, anyway?"

"That's a little harder to explain," Steve said. "Suffice it to say that the Tesseract isn't the only cosmic object out there. A being called Thanos decided to collect them and use them to destroy half of all life in the universe. I'm trying to stop that from ever happening."

"Fuck," Howard said. "He could actually do that? Just wave his hand and bam, half of all living beings just gone?"

"Snap his fingers, but yeah, he really could," Steve said. "Did, actually. Then he destroyed the Stones to prevent himself from being tempted to use them again. Problem is, destroying them as he did is destabilizing the universe. I've come back to the past to fix the timeline."

"Aren't you afraid you'll mess up the past?" Howard asked. "I mean, you could be going back to a future that's far different than the one you left if you make the wrong sort of changes."

"I've been reliably informed that time travel doesn't work like that," Steve said, giving a lopsided smile. "What I'm actually going to try to do is create a new timeline. One in which I end Thanos before he has the chance to snap his fingers and destroy the world as we know it."

"What exactly do you have in mind?" Howard asked, one eyebrow raised.

~o~

"You really sure this is what you want to do?" Howard asked.

Steve stood, staring out at the barren Arctic landscape. He'd asked himself the same question more times than he could count over the last several weeks. Truth was, he still wasn't sure this was the right way to do it, but he'd come to the conclusion that there really was no right way. He could only control what he could control; everything that happened away from Earth was going to happen, regardless of the changes he made here. He could only make the choices he thought had the best chances for a good outcome, and let the chips fall where they may.

"Yeah, I'm sure," he said. He glanced at Howard, seeing the tension in his frame. "I need to be there at the beginning. I didn't have a lot of control over the situation, but I have influence that I can use. Hopefully, I can make enough changes to the timeline that we can avoid The Decimation, and all the consequences of Thanos' actions."

"That's a tall order," Howard said. "You got anyone who can help you? Anyone you trust in the future?"

"I—" Steve had to swallow the lump in his throat. He'd trusted Tony, even when they were at odds. He was hoping that, by going back in time and starting over, they'd avoid losing their friendship, too. Not that he could tell Howard any of that. There were certain things he thought perhaps his friend didn't need to know. "Yeah, I'll have friends. At least, I hope they'll be my friends again. We'll see."

"You know I'll do everything I can to prepare the way for you," Howard said. "Just say the word and I'll make sure it gets done."

"I know," Steve said, smiling. "There are a few things I'm going to need you to do."

"We're probably going to need more coffee for this conversation," Howard said. "C'mon, let's go inside and we can talk through what needs to be done."

Steve followed Howard into the temporary structure they'd built to serve as a home base for the expedition to find the Valkyrie. Steve had the coordinates, but they were operating without GPS, so once they'd set up camp, Howard had sent a team out to try to locate the plane. Steve wasn't looking forward to seeing his younger self frozen in the ice, but it couldn't be helped.

They shed their coats, gloves and hats, and settled in at the table, facing each other with a pot of coffee between them.

"Alright, tell me what you need," Howard said.

Steve took a deep breath. "First, you need to make sure Zola doesn't get anywhere near SHIELD. He's corrupt down to his bones, and there are those within SHEILD who'll use that to rebuild Hydra inside SHIELD."

"Fuck me sideways," Howard said, staring at Steve in shock. "You're not kidding, are you?"

"I wish I was," Steve said. He took a sip of coffee as he gathered his thoughts. "It nearly broke me when I found out that Hydra had essentially infected SHIELD, all the way to the top. I had to tear it all down, Howard. Everything you and Peggy built, I had to destroy, and it almost destroyed me."

"Jesus," Howard said. "You're sure I'm going to be in a position to do anything about Zola? There are some pretty powerful people backing the German scientists we collected. Von Braun, Zola, and all their people. Their knowledge is invaluable; I can foresee some pushback if I try to put my foot in the middle of that."

"Zola was a Nazi," Steve said, voice gone hard. "Remind everyone of that fact, Repeatedly. At volume if necessary. He was a true believer. He'd have had to be to stick with Schmidt for as long as he did. He can't be trusted any farther than you can throw him, and I don't want him anywhere near you or Peggy."

Howard's expression softened. "I still don't get why you didn't want to see her before we left. She misses you. Even two years after we lost you, she's still mourning."

"I know," Steve said. "But I'm not the same man she knew two years ago. I'm… more weary. Jaded, I guess. I've seen and done too much to be the man she needs. It's better for her if I just stay away. Besides, he'll be the man she remembers, and he's gonna need her more than I do. It'll be fine."

"You say so," Howard said, but he clearly didn't understand Steve's reasons. Which was okay; there wasn't much about this situation that Steve knew for sure, but he knew without a doubt that he couldn't stay with Peggy. It wasn't his place anymore, and he wouldn't be able to do what needed to be done if he stopped to see her. "So, I've got to kick Zola out of the cool kids' club. What else?"

"I'm going to need you to go after something called the Winter Soldier Program," Steve said. He'd given this one a lot of thought. It felt selfish, sending Howard after Bucky, but it would also save Howard's life, so he thought the trade-off was fair.

"Whose project is that?" Howard asked with a frown. "Ours?"

"The Soviets, actually," Steve said. "They were infiltrated by Hydra as well. Zola gave them the research on the Super Soldier serum and started trying to create their own army of Super Soldiers. I don't know how far along the project is at this point, so there may not be much to go on, but you need to shut it down. Hydra and the Soviets used the Winter Soldier to kill anyone who got too close to discovering Hydra hiding within SHIELD. They killed a lot of innocent people, including the failed candidates."

"Hydra and the Soviets working together?" Howard asked. "It's no wonder you want to change the future. The world you woke up in is seriously fucked up, Steve."

Steve snorted. "Tell me about it. By the time I woke up, the Soviet Union had fallen, but that just left room for other, crazier nightmares to fill the vacuum. Honestly, some of the shit I've seen makes the Soviets look like a quilting bee."

"I'm not gonna like the future much, am I?" Howard asked.

"When we're done remaking the future, it'll be safe for you and yours," Steve said. "I refuse to lose any more friends to this mess."

"I'll do what I can to make that happen," Howard said. "You have my word."

"Thanks," Steve said.

"What about… him?" Howard asked, waving his hand in the general direction of the crash site. "You want me to tell him anything?"

"Tell him as much as you can," Steve said. "He's going to need to know, especially when he sees me on television."

"You planning on running for President or something?" Howard asked, his lips quirked up in a smile.

"No," Steve said. "But if we can't stop the alien invasion—and at this point I have to believe it'll happen, no matter what we do—I'm going to be right in the thick of it. It'll be covered extensively by the media, so my face will be all over the news."

"And Peg?" Howard asked. "She's gonna be madder than an old, wet hen if we tell him and not her. 'Cause she's going to see the same things on TV that he will."

"Yeah," Steve said with a sigh. "She won't take it well, but I don't think you can keep it from her. At least, not all of it. You're going to have to decide how much you can tell them and when. And he'll need a new identity. He can't go around calling himself Steve Rogers; there'll be too many questions you won't want to answer."

"Great," Howard said with a huff. "Leave me holding the bag."

"I wish things were different, Howard," Steve said. "I wish none of this was necessary, but I can't let Thanos destroy my world, and if history unfolds the same way it did the first time, that's exactly what will happen. I'm going to do better this time; hopefully I'll be able to stop him."

"Well, I wish you luck," Howard said. "It sounds like you're going to need it."

"Excuse me, sir," one of the team members said as he pushed the door open.

"What is it, Jones?" Howard asked.

"We've found the plane, sir," Jones said. He glanced nervously at Steve, who figured he knew why. "It's just like you said. The C-Captain is inside; he's frozen, so we don't know what kind of condition he's in."

"Thanks, Jones," Howard said. He looked at Steve. "Ready?"

Steve drained his coffee cup. "As I'll ever be. Let's go."

~o~


	4. The Sword He Draws Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of The Sword He Draws

~o~

Steve came awake slowly, not at all sure of what to expect. The last time he'd been through this, SHIELD had tried to fool him into thinking no time had passed. That had set him off, and he'd never really calmed down after that.

He listened carefully to the sounds of the room, taking deeper breaths as he tried to figure out where he was. It was quiet, almost preternaturally so. No monitoring equipment, no radio or tv, just the sound of his own heart beating.

"You can open your eyes now, Cap."

Steve turned his head, opening his eyes as instructed to find a familiar face staring at him over the edge of a tablet, a mug of steaming coffee paused mid-sip as his watcher watched him.

"Tony," he breathed out, relieved to have woken up at all, but more so to have his friend there, confirming that things hadn't changed too much.

Tony raised an eyebrow. "Well, looks like Dear Old Dad was right after all."

Steve closed his eyes, feeling like a fool for giving himself away so easily. When he opened them again, it was to see Tony smirking at him. He set the coffee mug aside, along with the tablet, and leaned forward.

"So, a couple of years ago, Howard sat me down to tell me a few things," Tony said. "See, he was worried that the cancer would take him before it was time to retrieve and defrost you. I, of course, didn't believe a word of it. Even after Uncle Grant and Aunt Peg chimed in. But I still sent the expedition out, expecting to find the plane and no Captain America. Imagine my surprise when they came back with a Capsicle."

Steve huffed. "If it makes you feel any better, Howard held a gun to my face until he was sure I was really who I said I was."

"Sounds about right," Tony said as he leaned back in his chair. 

"So, where am I?" Steve asked. He pushed himself up just a bit, so he could see Tony better. "For that matter, what's the year?"

"At the moment, you're in Stark Manor," Tony said. "I've had the whole place remodeled since you were here last. New basement levels, a landing pad on the roof. Totally rewired and updated. I've even installed my AI, though Howard wasn't so sure about that part. Say hello, J."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Captain Rogers," JARVIS said. "Should you require anything during your stay with us, you only need ask."

"Thanks, JARVIS," Steve said. He froze when he caught the calculating look on Tony's face. "What?"

"You and I knew each other in your original future," Tony said, a statement and not a question.

"Yeah, we did," Steve said with a sigh. He figured it was pointless to lie to a Stark, so he didn't even try. "And before you ask, I left things out of the story I told Howard because I believed that if I told him too much about his future, that it would change things, and I didn't have the right to mess with his life."

"But you'll gladly mess with everyone else's," Tony shot back. When Steve opened his mouth to explain, Tony held up a hand. "Relax. Howard explained your goal in going back in time. I'm actually on board with the whole 'prevent the universe from imploding' thing."

"Where is Howard?" Steve asked. 

"He passed away late last year," Tony said, his voice subdued. "Lung cancer, in case that wasn't clear."

"And what year is it?"

"It's 2010," Tony said.

"But, that's a year early," Steve said. In the original timeline, he'd been found in 2011, just a year before the Chitauri invasion.

"Yeah, it is," Tony said. "Unfortunately, the Army has been sniffing around the Arctic the last couple of years, keeping tabs on the SI expedition. We thought it was better to pull you out early rather than risk the Army finding you."

"Not SHIELD?" Steve asked, confused.

Tony shook his head. "SI partnered with SHIELD on the search, but obviously we weren't the only interested party. SHIELD didn't have the resources to conduct a full-scale search without help, and there was no way Howard was going to let them find you without a Stark being there."

"Was Howard able to clean up SHIELD?" Steve asked. He'd hate to think that, even after telling him about the issues, that he wouldn't have been able to clean up the agency he helped found.

"Oh, yeah, he cleaned up SHIELD all right," Tony said. "It cost them some credibility, so the agency stayed small for a number of years. After 9/11, SHIELD was folded into Homeland Security. With the backing of a large Federal agency, they've grown in influence, but still have that small agency feel. Howard was actually the first director of the rebranded SSR. Aunt Peg took over in the seventies. They've done well with the agency; it's now the go-to in the Federal alphabet soup for all things science—and-supernatural—related, whether it's espionage or law-enforcement."

"Wow," Steve said. "I knew things would be different, but I guess I didn't think they'd be that different. Who's the director now? Fury?"

"His name's Coulson," Tony said. "He's a good guy. Shoots straight, and never asks for things he knows he shouldn't have. There's a guy named Nick Fury that works for CIA; real pain in the ass, but he and Coulson go way back, so he works with SHIELD quite often."

"I knew Coulson," Steve said, nodding. "Well, I met him once, briefly. But from what other people said, he was a good man. Anything else I should know about him?"

"Eh, probably tons, but nothing that's relevant today," Tony said.

"What about the Tesseract?" Steve asked. "Did you ever find it?"

"Yeah, we found it," Tony said. "SHIELD currently has it. We've been studying it off and on for several years. Nothing exciting to report yet, but we have a new scientist on the project that should help speed things along."

"You wouldn't be talking about Bruce Banner, would you?"

"You know him?" Tony asked, one eyebrow raised in surprise.

"I do," Steve said. "I've also met… the Other Guy."

"Ah, yes, Green Bean," Tony said. Steve chuckled; he'd always loved Tony's nicknames for the people he liked, even if he made a show of disdaining them. Wouldn't do to feed Tony already-large ego, after all. "He's actually pretty cool. You wouldn't believe the looks he gets in the lab when he walks in all big and green. The newbies tend to run for the corners until they find out he's like a big, green teddy bear."

"Wait, Hulk and Bruce have integrated?" Steve asked. "How'd that happen?"

"I'm assuming Hulk destroyed Harlem in your original timeline," Tony said. Steve nodded. "Okay, so the way he tells it, Bruce realized pretty quickly that having a ticking time bomb inside him was going to become unworkable sooner rather than later. So, he came to me—science bros, or something, I wasn't really clear about why he picked me—and I put him in touch with Coulson. SHIELD's psychologists helped him deal with his rage monster problem."

"Wow," Steve said. "Anything else you want to lay on me?"

Tony chuckled. "I think that's more than enough for one day. The doctors—and I count Bruce among them; he was instrumental in helping defrost you, by the way—are probably going to have my hide for keeping you up so long."

"I'm not really tired," Steve said, even as he leaned back and closed his eyes. "I've been sleeping for better than sixty years. I'm not sure I need to sleep anymore."

"You just keep telling yourself that," Tony said. He patted Steve on the shoulder as he stood, then reached for his mug and tablet. "Get some rest. If you're feeling up to it tomorrow, I'll show you around the mansion, let you meet some of the gang."

Steve opened his eyes and watched Tony walk to the door. "Thanks, Tony. For everything."

"You're welcome." Tony turned and smile at Steve. "Thanks for not being dead. I'd have hated to get to the crash site only to have you already expired from freezer burn. Would have broken Aunt Peg's heart, and I hate doing that."

"Me too," Steve said. 

Tony flipped the switch, casting the room into shadows. Steve sighed and settled deeper into the bed as Tony shut the door. He wasn't sure he'd be able to sleep, with all the information Tony had given him about how different this timeline was, but he pushed it all aside and closed his eyes. 

There would be time to sort out all the changes later. He had almost two years before the potential Chitauri invasion. Plenty of time to plan for what was to come.

~o~

"So, tell me what's coming," Tony said.

They'd toured the house, the labs and Steve had even gotten a look at the model for Stark Tower. He'd also noticed that Tony didn't have an arc reactor in his chest, which had led to a whole conversation about the Iron Man suit—which still existed but had been created for different reasons—and the fact that Stark Industries hadn't been in the business of making weapons since the eighties. 

Now they were enjoying a late lunch in the kitchen; it was the same room, with basically the same layout, but everything was new. From the cabinets to the appliances to the furniture, there wasn't anything left of the kitchen he remembered from 1948.

"What did Howard tell you?" Steve asked.

"He said something about aliens?" Tony said, sounding more like a question than a statement. "And something about some stones. To be honest, I thought maybe he was just totally high on morphine."

"No, unfortunately he wasn't," Steve said. He sighed as he played with his coffee cup. "Sometime this year, if events have happened the same as my original timeline, we're going to be visited by Thor."

"The God of Thunder?" Tony asked incredulously. "That Thor?"

"The very same," Steve said. "He'll have been exiled from Asgard and sent here, where he meets a scientist named Jane Foster. SHIELD will likely be involved, due to Thor's hammer landing here ahead of him. He's not the real threat, though."

"I can't imagine he would be," Tony said. "Well, actually, I have no idea what kind of threat an exiled god would be. Lay it on me. Where's the real threat coming from?"

"A race called the Chitauri invades Manhattan about two years from now," Steve said. "Partly due to Thor's visit, and partly due to events on other worlds that draw attention here. Basically, SHIELD's work on the Tesseract will attract the attention of an alien called Thanos, who is trying to assemble the Infinity Stones so he can use them to eliminate half of all life in the universe."

Tony stared at him for several moments. "So, this is why you travelled back in time. You're trying to undo what he did."

"Actually, we've already undone the Snap," Steve said. He stared at his coffee cup, feeling the failure to keep his promise to Tony like a lump that just wouldn't go away. He looked up again, to remind himself that Tony was alive and well and sitting right in front of him. "But in the process of undoing it, we lost people. People I'm not willing to let go of."

"You do know you don't get a choice about that, right?" Tony asked. "People die, and it sucks, but we can't always stop that from happening."

"I get that," Steve said. "But the more relevant reason for doing this is to stop the universe from… unraveling. The Infinity Stones—Time, Space—what we call the Tesseract—Power, Reality, Mind and Soul—are what powers the universe. Thanos used them to eliminate half of the population of the universe, and then used them again to destroy the Stones themselves. We need to stop him from doing that. Otherwise—"

"The whole universe will end," Tony said. "Fuck. Okay, I'm officially done judging you for cheating by going back in time. The question is, what else needs to change in order to prevent this Thanos asshat from getting the Stones and blowing up my universe."

Steve chuckled. "I'm not sure it's technically your universe."

"Well, I live in it, so I'm going to claim it as mine, and he can't have it," Tony said. "We should probably read Banner in. His brain is almost as big as mine, and we could really use the help."

"I—yeah, okay," Steve said. It would actually be nice to have other people to lean on and help him fix things.

"Now, there's something you should probably see," Tony said. "Unless you're tired?"

"I'm fine," Steve said, standing up.

"Okay, then," Tony said. He stood up and started walking. "Let's go."

~o~

They entered a lab in one of the sub-levels of the mansion—one that was only accessible after Tony had entered a code on the keypad, plus allowed a scan of his eye and given a voice command. Steve had no idea what might interest him that required such security, so he just followed Tony's lead.

Once inside, he spotted Banner fairly easily. The scientist in question looked up from the terminal he was working at, giving Tony an easy smile. Today must have been a 'Bruce day', as Tony had explained, because he was faced with the familiar brown curls and slight stature of the scientist he remembered.

"Hey, Tony." He shifted his gaze to Steve, and his smile got bigger. "Captain. It's good to see you up and around."

"Doctor Banner," Steve said, reaching out to shake the man's hand. "I understand I have you to thank for helping thaw me out from the ice."

"Well, it was a team effort, really," Banner said. It was cute how he blushed just a little at the show of gratitude, as if he didn't get that very often. He knew from experience that Banner's life had been hard, and that there was a heap of guilt and not much else sitting on his shoulders in the other timeline. It was good to know that Tony had made him feel valuable again. "I'm guessing this isn't just a social call, right?"

"I thought I'd show him…" Tony waved his hand at a door set in the back of the room. 

"Yeah," Banner said. They were both subdued, which set off alarm bells in Steve.

Tony crossed the room and went through much the same routine he had to get into the lab they were in. When the door slid open, he turned and gestured for Steve to follow him in. Banner entered right behind him, and the door slid shut. Steve glanced back as it did so, then turned to Tony with an eyebrow raised.

"Security precaution," Tony said. "Even though the outer lab is secure, I didn't want anyone getting in who shouldn't."

"What's so sensitive that you need that much security, Tony?" Steve asked.

Tony pointed across the room. "That. Or rather—him."

Steve looked across the room and saw a large chamber pushed against one wall. As he approached it, the hair on his arms stood up. Visible through the window was the face of his childhood best friend; Bucky Barnes, frozen in time, still looking as young as he'd been when they'd last seen each other.

Steve looked back at Tony, so many questions running through his mind, but he couldn't seem to find the words. Thankfully, Tony had never needed anyone to ask questions before he spoke.

"SI found him back in 1983," Tony said. "Well, we found the Winter Soldier Program in a bunker in Siberia. Most of the test subjects were raving lunatics, but according to the records, Barnes here was stable. So, we unplugged Barnes and returned him to the US, and blew up the bunker."

"Were you there?" Steve asked.

"Oh, fuck no," Tony said. "I was in high school. Very briefly, but I was there. No, Howard actually accompanied the retrieval team. I didn't understand why until he explained who Barnes was to you."

"Why is he still frozen?" Steve asked. "I'd have thought you'd have revived him by now."

"We'd like to," Banner said, stepping up bedside Steve. "Our research says they've programmed him into a killing machine, so we're not sure what would happen if we woke him up again."

"You already tried once, did you?" Steve asked, that sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach getting worse.

"We did," Banner said. "It didn't go well. So, he'll stay in stasis until we can figure out how to deprogram him."

"I've been in touch with a friend," Tony said, joining Steve and Banner in front of the chamber. "We're getting ready to transfer him to Wakanda. T'Chaka and his scientists think they may have a way to remove the conditioning. I wanted to wait until we'd woken you up to transfer him, so you could see him before he goes."

"You're friends with the King of Wakanda?" Steve asked. He didn't have to fake his shock; Wakanda had been closed to outsiders for a very long time. Only when T'Challa had come to power had they opened themselves up to the outside world.

"Howard was, actually," Tony said. "They met at a UN function a number of years ago. I spent my summers with them for a while when I was a kid. They've got a way with technology that borders on the preternatural. Dad knew my intellect would drive me to learn all I could, so he partnered with the Wakandan royal family to get me the education I needed. T'Chaka is basically my godfather."

"Holy shit," Steve murmured. "What have I done? I mean, getting Bucky back sooner is a blessing, but how much have I changed?"

"I don't think we'll ever really know," Tony said. "But it's all to the good, as far as I'm concerned. I got to have my parents around a lot longer, and Hydra never got a foothold in a US spy agency. I'll take that outcome over what you described any day."

Steve turned around, eyes wide. "You know? Howard knew? But how? I never said—"

"Howard wasn't an idiot," Tony said, but there was no condemnation in his voice. "He figured out pretty quickly why you'd have him go after an elite assassin—Hydra's favorite toy. The fact that it was Barnes kinda threw him for a loop, but ultimately, he understood that you were trying to save lives. Dad had worked out the formula for the serum; Hydra had Zola's research, but they needed the information that Dad had. No doubt they'd have sent the Winter Solder—that's what they called him—after that research. And the man who had it."

"Jesus," Steve said, rubbing a hand over his face. "I wasn't trying to—I hope Howard didn't think I was holding out on him. Too much knowledge about the future—"

"He understood," Tony said before Steve could even finish the thought. "He even agreed, to a degree. Might have been nice to know about Bucky, but eh, wasn't really relevant in the end."

"I—thank you," Steve said. "For everything."

They stood staring at each other for several heartbeats. It was Banner who eventually broke the silence.

"This sounds interesting. Care to share with the rest of the class?"

"Of course," Tony said, quirking a smile. "You know I share all my best toys with you, right?"

~o~

Steve stood staring at the holographic array in front of him, littered with scribbles and pictures not unlike the white boards he'd seen on television in the old timeline. He'd never admit that he'd gotten the idea from those shows, but he thought perhaps Tony knew that anyway.

In the year since he'd woken up, he'd made it his mission to track some of the players on the board that had been a genuine threat in the previous timeline. It bothered him not knowing where men like Alexander Pierce and Wolfgang von Strucker were. JARVIS had been instrumental in helping find them, and tracking money and influence that those men either wielded or benefited from.

"You know, this is not what I expected from you when you woke up."

Steve turned around to find Tony leaning against the doorjamb of his 'lab'. When he'd first proposed this project, Tony hadn't even batted an eye; he'd just assigned him to a lab next door to Banner's. Steve had turned it into a command center of sorts. The holographic table sat in the middle of the room facing a truly gigantic screen; he'd shocked Tony speechless by not only learning how to use it but suggesting improvements.

The rest of the space held Steve's work area—a large adjustable-height desk and comfortable office chair—a conference table big enough for at least a dozen people, and a sitting area with a large leather couch and chairs. The only reason he didn't spend more time in his lab was because JARVIS was consistently harassing him into dragging Tony and Bruce out of theirs.

"Most people never realized that the serum didn't boost my intelligence," Steve said. "I was smarter than most of the kids in my class growing up. The serum just enhanced my reading speed and gave me a photographic memory."

"That must have been a shock," Tony said. He walked in and joined Steve at the holographic table. "Making any progress?"

"Some," Steve said. "Maximoff, as it turns out, is a really common name in Sokovia. But, I think we've located the right family. I'm not sure when they got mixed up with Hydra, but given that Hydra infiltrated the Soviet Union at around the same time they formed within SHIELD, I can't rule out that they're already on board."

"And it's really that important to prevent that?" Tony asked.

"They were experimented on, Tony," Steve said. "Which is bad enough, but then they turned it around and tortured me and my friends. I'd like to prevent that from happening again, but I acknowledge that it may not be possible."

"I don't have may contacts in that part of the world, so this won't exactly be easy," Tony said. "We may want to partner with SHIELD on this one. If these kids were that easily manipulated by the Stone, they may already have genetic mutations that can be exploited."

"Do you really trust SHIELD?" Steve asked, turning to focus on Tony instead of the screen.

"I trust Coulson," Tony said. "He's always played it straight with me, and not just because of who my father was."

"Then I think it's time I meet him," Steve said. 

Tony raised an eyebrow. "May I ask why?"

"There's another asset I want to track down, one that SHIELD may have had contact with," Steve said.

"Someone they had contact with in the old timeline," Tony said. "Okay, I'll reach out and set up a meeting. You're not going in alone, so don't even ask."

Steve held up his hands in surrender. "Wasn't planning to. I wouldn't mind the company, actually. I don't know SHIELD the way you do, and I have no idea who I can trust and who I can't."

"For the most part, the people Coulson has brought in are people we can trust," Tony said. "He respected my dad and Aunt Peg, and so far as I can tell, hasn't made any moves that would be considered disrespectful or destructive."

"And how do you know so much about SHIELD's operations?" Steve asked. He crossed his arms and gave Tony a stern glare.

"You know, that probably didn't even work on Howard, so I'm not sure why you're pulling it on me," Tony said with a smirk. "As for how I know so much about SHIELD, that's fairly simple. I have a backdoor into the SHIELD mainframe."

"You hacked SHIELD?" Steve asked. "What am I saying? Of course you hacked SHIELD. You did it in the other timeline, so I should have known you'd do it here, too."

Tony laughed. "I like knowing everything there is to know, it's true. But as for the SHIELD mainframe, I designed it. Any time they need serious modifications, they call me. Having unlimited access to the contents of their servers is just a bonus, and one I warned them about before they signed the contract."

Steve shook his head, smiling fondly at his friend. "Only you would make unfettered access to SHIELD's top-secret data a condition of your server maintenance contract."

"So, shall I call up Coulson's admin and get us an appointment?" Tony asked.

"Yeah," Steve said. "The sooner the better. We're probably about six months out from the original date of the Chitauri invasion. Right now, it's just you, me and Banner. I have no idea if SHIELD even has a way to contact Thor, and there are others I'd like to reach out to. I want to make sure we have all the help we'll need when the time comes."

"You sound like you're building a team, Cap," Tony said.

"Maybe I am," Steve said. He sighed. "We had one, the last time. I wasn't even sure it would work. We were certainly never invested in each other, much less in working as a team. I'm hoping we can do better this time."

"Well, as long as we're extending invitations to this party, I've got a plus-one," Tony said. "I've been working on another suit for a friend of mine in the Army. His name's—"

"Rhodey," Steve said. "James Rhodes. I knew him. He's a good man, and good in a fight. If you're okay with him joining the… team, I'm glad to have his help."

"I'll bring him over for pizza and beer sometime soon," Tony said. "I figure you two should meet before the shit hits the fan."

"Sounds good to me," Steve said. 

"What about this kid here?" Tony asked, pointing to a picture off by itself on the far side of the display.

"Peter Parker," Steve said. He frowned; he still wasn’t sure it was smart to bring Peter into this, given what happened the last time, but the kid had a 'do the right thing' moral imperative that wasn't going to change just because Steve had made some changes to the timeline. So, he'd figured out where the kid was and set JARVIS to keep an eye on him. "He's… well, he was a protégé of a sort. Yours."

"That kid?" Tony asked, eyebrows making for his hairline. "He can't even shave. No way I'd have invited him to the grown-ups table, no matter what his deal was."

"Peter's special," Steve said quietly. "He's really smart—like you. Plus, he's got something going on—some sort of mutation or something, I was never really clear on that and you and I weren't really on speaking terms when you found him—but in a few years, he's going to start popping up on the radar fairly regularly. Fighting crime and kicking ass. They'll call him 'the friendly neighborhood Spiderman'."

Tony laughed. "Well, he's got brass ones, that's for sure. Protégé, you say. Sounds like I need to pay a visit to Mr. Parker. Make sure he's on the right path, or some such nonsense. I never really went in for that shit myself, but I hear it's all the rage with the superhero set."

"Tony," Steve said with a chuckle, unwillingly amused. He thought about telling Tony that Peter didn't make it, that he was dusted along with a whole bunch of other people who mattered to both of them, but decided that would be the height of cruelty. They were making a new future here; no need to dwell on the past. He shook his head, mentally letting all of that go yet again. 

"Alright, I'll get us in with Coulson." Tony turned to leave, spinning on his heel to back away as he talked. "And let me know if you want to invite anyone else to your superhero club. I'm sure there's always room for more."

Steve just chuckled, waving Tony off.

He hadn't set out to recreate the Avengers in this new timeline, but he knew they'd need to assemble a team sooner or later, and he had no idea if SHIELD had even had the idea, what with Fury not being the director. Even if the Chitauri never invaded, they weren't the only threat out there. They needed to be prepared, and that started with having people he trusted watching his back.

~o~

"Do you know why Coulson didn't join Fury at the CIA?" Steve asked as they drove to SHIELD HQ. 

Ironically, SHIELD had taken over the facility in upstate New York that the Avengers had co-opted in his original timeline. They'd never built the Triskelion due to lack of funds. Steve wasn't exactly sad, as he'd thought that complex was far too over-the-top for a spy agency. Plus, SHIELD's current headquarters was just an hour's drive in Tony's low-slung sports car, which suited Steve just fine.

"The story I've heard is that Fury knew Coulson wasn't cut out for pure spy games, so instead of recruiting him for the CIA, he referred his old friend to Aunt Peg and SHIELD," Tony said. "His loss, SHIELD's gain, really. Coulson rocketed up the ranks. He's the youngest director the agency has ever had, and that includes my father. Why? Wasn't he Director in your timeline?"

"No," Steve said, shaking his head. "Fury was, actually. I never really did trust him, so it's a bit of a relief that he's not in charge here."

"Fury is, by all accounts, a spy's spy," Tony said. "I've never actually met him, but his reputation precedes him into every room he enters, and even some he hasn't. He's deep into black ops and the kind of wet work that'd give a tenderfoot like you nightmares."

"Ha," Steve said. "The Howling Commandos were essentially the first Special Forces unit in the Army. We did things like wet work long before that became a thing."

"You know, you continuously surprise me," Tony said. "It's kind of refreshing."

Steve chuckled. "Well, I hate being a cliché, so I'll take it."

"In the interest of fair play, you gonna tell me who you want Coulson to find?"

"I'm looking for someone SHIELD might have had contact with," Steve said. "If Coulson has a way to contact her, I'm hoping he'll be amenable to reaching out. We may need her help."

"Are you talking about the Black Widow?" Tony asked.

"No," Steve said. Natasha had become a friend, but he'd never been very comfortable with the way Fury had used her to manipulate people, especially Tony. "Natasha's a spy, and even given her skillset, I'm not sure it's a good idea to include her in our plans."

"Don't trust her, do you?" Tony said. Steve shrugged. "Well, it might interest you to know that she's actually with the CIA and not SHIELD. Coulson's team found her and brought her in from the cold, but she actually moved over to the CIA to work with Fury several years ago. It's a better fit for her skills, honestly. She and Fury are a fucking nightmare that the US is only too happy to turn loose on our enemies."

"Well, that explains why I didn't find her in the SHIELD database you gave me," Steve said. 

"Barton would probably be a good fit, though," Tony said, seemingly offhandedly. "He's the best marksman in the Federal pantheon. Better than Ian Edgerton, and that's saying something considering how many confirmed kills that man has. You probably saw his file in the database. Codename Hawkeye."

"I know Clint," Steve said. "Well, I knew him before. He's good in a fight. Has good eyes and good instincts. I'd definitely want him on the team." Steve paused. "We should probably talk about what we're going to do with this team. I mean, I doubt it's a good idea to form it under the auspices of SHIELD. Any one nation or agency having that much control over a team of… superheroes, for lack of a better word, is a bad idea. Not that I have a better one, honestly. That was always your bailiwick."

"Bailiwick?" Tony said, smirking at Steve as he pulled up in front of the building. 

"It's a word," Steve said. He stepped out of the car and looked at Tony over the roof. "I can't help it that your education is sadly lacking."

"Ha," Tony said, pointing at Steve. "I'll have you know I graduated from MIT. Twice. No, three times."

"Were you too drunk to remember the last one?" Steve asked. Tony joined him on the other side of the car and they walked into the building together.

"The first one, actually," Tony said. "By the time I got that one under my belt, I realized that drinking my way through college wasn't going to help when it came time to actually remember any of what I was taught. So, I buckled down and earned two more degrees, stone cold sober. College pretty much sucked after that."

Steve could only laugh.

They were met at security by a familiar face. "Stark. Wasn't expecting to see you so soon."

"Legolas!" Tony said as he shook hands with Clint. "I've got some new prototype arrows for you. Remind me to grab them from the trunk before we leave."

"Exploding tips?" Clint asked hopefully.

Tony laughed. "What is it with you and blowing things up? No exploding tips, but one of them is an EMP. Should come in handy in urban areas."

"Could probably use one to take down a vehicle," Clint said. He pointed to Steve. "Is that…?"

"Captain Rogers, yes," Tony said. "Cap, meet Agent Clint Barton."

The two shook hands. Steve had to fight the feeling of déjà vu that smacked him between the eyes on 'meeting' his friend. "Agent Barton, good to meet you."

"You, too," Clint said. "Phil's gonna shit a brick. Come on. I'll take you to him."

Clint escorted them to a large office on the other side of the campus. There was a large, floor-to-ceiling window along one wall, with a large wooden desk in front of it. A conference table dominated the other wall, and a small sitting area was tucked in near the windows.

Standing near the couch was Phil Coulson, looking very much like he had the last time Steve had seen him. Steve had met him the day he died, and despite the passage of time, it was like a punch to the gut to see him alive and well. He stumbled a bit, and Tony shot him a concerned look, one he waved off with a slight shake of his head. He'd have to explain later, because Tony wasn't going to let that go. Hopefully by then Steve would have a handle on his shock.

"Director Coulson, meet Captain Steve Rogers," Clint said. "Captain Rogers, Director Phil Coulson."

Steve suddenly felt underdressed. Tony had come in one of his handmade suits, made from a special blend of Kevlar fabric that he'd been testing for possible sale to anyone who needed an extra layer of protection. Coulson was dressed in an immaculately tailored suit, much like the one Steve had last seen him in.

Steve, on the other hand, had come in khakis and a plaid shirt, with his leather jacket thrown over the top. He hadn't wanted to wear a suit since that just wasn't his style. He wondered if that was a poor choice, right up until Coulson opened his mouth.

"Captain, it's a genuine honor to meet you," Coulson said, shaking his hand. "I've been a fan of yours for years. I've been collecting Captain America memorabilia since I was a kid. I've got a complete set of trading cards, as a matter of fact. Slight foxing, but otherwise in near-mint condition."

Tony was practically choking on the laughter he was struggling to hold back. Steve shot him a quelling look, then refocused on Coulson. "I'd be happy to sign them, if you think that's something you'd like."

"I'd be happy to have you sign them, Captain," Coulson said. The smile on his face was worth a little awkwardness, Steve thought.

"Then we'll plan for it the next time we meet," Steve said.

"Stark," Coulson said, shaking hands with Tony. "Please, sit down."

"Do you want me to…?" Clint asked, pointing a thumb at the door.

Coulson glanced at Tony, who just shrugged and looked at Steve, who just shrugged back.

"Have a seat, Barton," Coulson said. He turned back to his two visitors. 

Coulson indicated that they should all sit on the couches. Steve appreciated that he wasn't using his desk as some sort of power play the way Fury used to. Dealing with Coulson was probably going to be much easier just for the fact that Coulson was more authentic.

"Do you mind if I bring in my Deputy?" Coulson asked.

"Fine by me," Tony said.

Coulson pulled out a cell phone—one that look a lot like the starkphone Tony had given Steve when he'd first landed in 2012—and typed a quick message. A minute later, Maria Hill walked into the room. She looked much the same as Steve remembered, if perhaps slightly less stressed out. She was wearing a pantsuit, with her hair pinned up in some sort of fancy twist. Steve had barely noticed her in his original timeline, but today it struck him just how beautiful she really was.

Coulson introduced Maria, who merely raised an eyebrow, then they all settled on the couches.

"So, what can SHIELD do for you, Captain?" Coulson asked.

"First, you can call me Steve," he said.

"Then please feel free to call me Phil," the Director said. He glanced at Tony, a frown edged with mirth on his face. "Tony usually does."

"I've got a question to ask you, if you'd be willing to answer," Steve said.

"I can't promise I can give you answers," Coulson said. "Especially if we're talking about classified information."

"I understand that," Steve said. "I'm looking for someone you may have had contact with. Have you ever encountered Carol Danvers? She's also known as Veers by the Kree."

Tony was staring at him in surprise, and Coulson shared a look with Clint and Maria, clearly wondering how he'd come into the information about Danvers.

"We've had dealings with Captain Danvers," Coulson finally said. "What's your interest in her?"

"That's a bit complicated," Steve said. He glanced at Tony, who gave him a subtle nod. They'd talked about what they could tell Coulson about Steve and his true mission. Ultimately, they'd decided to limit the information they gave Coulson and SHIELD, not because they didn't trust him, but because if that information fell into the wrong hands, the consequences could be devastating.

"We've come into some information that suggests there's an alien threat headed for Earth," Tony said.

"You're kidding, right?" Clint asked, then waved Tony off when he started to speak. "No, of course you're not. Just—fucking aliens. Again."

"Barton," Coulson said, slight warning in his tone. "How did you come into this information, if I may ask?"

"We received a message from a friend at the Kamar-Taj," Tony said. 

"The Masters of the Mystical Arts?" Maria said, joining the conversation for the first time. "I thought that was just a myth."

"They're actually a very nice bunch of lunatics," Tony said. "And before you ask, they seem certain something's coming. I'm not in the habit of believing people who call themselves sorcerers, but we're talking about aliens. I'd rather err on the side of caution. I have to live here, after all."

"What's the catch?" Clint asked.

"My priority is the survival of this world," Steve said. "I'm not interested in quid-pro-quo. I have information I'm willing to give you that will help protect this planet. All I ask in return is that you act on this information. Not to be melodramatic, but the fate of the universe is at stake."

"And he's on the up-and-up?" Maria asked Tony. "Not an imposter or mildly psychotic?"

"I wouldn't have brought him here if I thought he was nuts," Tony said. "My father told me he thought it might be possible for Steve to survive the crash, under the right conditions. Personally, I always thought he was the crazy one. Obviously, I was wrong."

Coulson looked at Steve. "You've always been honest in your dealings in the past. The fact that you survived the crash only to be held in stasis for over half a century hasn't changed your character."

"Thank you, sir," Steve said. Tony had suggested that they inform Coulson that they'd found Steve not long after he'd woken up. He had a feeling that not springing it on him along with the rest was a wise choice. "And Captain Danvers?"

"She did leave us with a way to contact her," Coulson said. "It's for emergencies only, but I think an alien invasion qualifies. Do we know why they're interested in Earth?"

"They're actually going to be drawn to Earth by the Tesseract," Tony said. "So, if you've got any of your scientists playing with it, you might consider locking it up in a vault, just in case."

"Hmmm," Coulson said. "As a matter of fact, Doctor Eric Selvig just started a series of experiments with it. He's showing some promising results, but if you really think it's that dangerous, we may need to suspend his project. At least until we know for sure if this invasion is really going to happen."

"There's no guarantee that these aliens haven't already noticed," Tony said. "So, I'd suggest a shielded vault if you have one. If not, I can recommend someplace secure."

"I'll let you know," Coulson said. "We currently have it at an offsite lab, so it's as secure as we can make it. But it's a powerful artifact, so secure is a relative term."

"Did you friends tell you anything else?" Clint asked. "Maybe a place or how many aliens we can expect to come knocking on the door?"

"If they're targeting the Tesseract, it's a good bet they'll start wherever it is," Maria said. "Our lab is heavily shielded, but we have no idea what type of sensing equipment this race has, so our shielding may be useless."

"Still, better to be safe than sorry," Coulson said. "Have Selvig and his team secure the Tesseract and report back when it's done. We can evacuate the facility once the artifact is secure, and leave only a minimal force behind to guard it."

"If you need any help making sure it's secure, give me a call," Tony said. "I can review the security protocols and make some recommendations."

"Thanks, Tony. We may take you up on that," Coulson said. 

"If you can reach out to Thor, that might also be a good idea," Steve said. "I'm not sure if you have a method of contacting him, but it can't hurt to have him on stand-by."

"I agree," Coulson said. "He did leave us with a way to contact him, but he said it might take time for any message to reach him."

"Let's hope he left the answering machine on," Clint said.

Coulson shot Clint a quelling look before refocusing on Steve and Tony. "Anything else you need to tell us?"

"You mean that's not enough for one day?" Clint asked.

Tony laughed. "No, I think that about covers it. If we come across anything else we think you should know, we'll pass it along."

"Sounds good," Coulson said. He stood, and the rest followed. Holding out a hand, he shook hands with Steve and Tony. "It was good to meet you, Captain."

"And you as well, Director Coulson," Steve said, smiling. "I hope we'll get to work with each other more in the future."

"I'd like that," Coulson said. Steve found the blush that stole across the man's cheeks entirely charming. "Maria, would you escort our visitors out. When you get back, we'll talk over our options. We've got some work ahead of us."

"Right," Maria said. "Gentlemen, if you'll follow me?"

They walked with her out to Tony's car, chatting about the weather and the newest Cuban restaurant in town, of all things. After they shook hands, Maria headed back inside; Steve watched her walk away, wondering how he'd never noticed how striking she was.

"Looks like someone's interested," Tony said over the roof of the car.

Steve turned around and opened the car door. "I barely knew her in my original timeline. I'm wondering if I missed out on something."

Tony threw his head back and laughed.

~o~

Steve hated being right. At least, he hated being right about this.

Almost six months after their conversation with Coulson and SHIELD, the Chitauri invaded. Events didn't unfold exactly as they had in Steve's original timeline, but they'd been ready for the invasion and had defeated the Chitauri, just as he'd hoped.

Now, all that was left was the clean-up. Not exactly easy, but they'd caused far less damage this time because Loki had chosen SHIELD headquarters to set up his portal device due to the arc reactor Tony had built for the facility. He'd delayed construction on Stark Tower, knowing that it would be too appealing a target for Loki; they'd wanted to avoid nearly destroying Manhattan, and with SHIELD HQ being far from the city and in a more rural area of New York, they'd done what they set out to do.

Danvers had answered their call, and Thor had shown up just after Loki took the Tesseract, just as he had the first time. But without the infighting and hostility—and knowing that the Mind Stone in the scepter was actually stoking all of that bad blood—they were able to gel a lot quicker. That turned out to be the difference, and allowed them to turn the tide of the battle a lot sooner.

"It was a glorious battle, was it not, Captain?" Thor asked as he stepped up beside Steve.

Steve had retreated to the rooftop deck of Tony's mansion to look at the mostly-undamaged Manhattan skyline and enjoy the fact that they'd won the battle, even if they had yet to win the war.

"It was something," Steve said. "I'm just glad we came out of it unhurt."

"I feel I owe you an apology," Thor said quietly. "If it were not for my brother, your world would not have been at risk."

"Loki is just as much a victim in all this as the people who got hurt," Steve said. "The scepter was controlling him even as he was using it to control others. When he's finally free of it, he's going to need a lot of help. Can you make sure he gets it?"

"I will see to it that Father does not punish him for what has transpired," Thor said. "It is the least I owe you for not killing him when you had the chance."

Steve took a deep breath and turned to Thor. "I'm not in the habit of killing victims, Thor. Your brother has done terrible things, but ultimately Thanos is more to blame than Loki. There will come a day when we face off against Thanos; I've made it my personal mission to see him dead for all the havoc he's wrought in the universe. He's planning to assemble the Infinity Stones so he can destroy half of all life in the universe. The consequences would be… devastating. I can't let him do that."

"Then I shall join you in your endeavor," Thor said. "Thanos is no god. He does not have the right to decide who will live and who will die. If we must kill him to stop him from completing his quest, so be it. I will not mourn such a man."

"Thank you," Steve said. "Just remember, aim for the head. The bastard can survive pretty much any body blow, and we really don't need him living to fight another day."

Thor laughed. "I will take your advice to heart, Captain." He slapped Steve on the back, nearly knocking him over. "I must take my leave of you now. I am to return Loki to Asgard to face our father's justice. I will see to it that he is taken care of. Our mother, especially, will not want to see him harmed for acting against his own will."

"That's all I ask," Steve said.

He held out a hand; Thor slid easily into a warrior's handshake, grasping Steve's forearm with a firm grip without trying to crush the bones of his arm. Steve nodded at the other man, and Thor nodded in return.

As he watched Thor walk away, he wondered if his words would be enough when the time came. He knew he could call Mjolnir should he need it; he'd done so during the battle with the Chitauri. Thor had merely grinned at him, as though he'd known all along that Steve was a good man for whom the hammer would do his bidding. He just hoped it would be enough to change their fates.

Tony stepped up beside him, handing him a beer as he turned to look out over Manhattan. "So, I saw you chatting with Thor. He doing okay?"

"He's upset about his brother," Steve said. "And I think a little relieved that someone else sees his brother as the victim he is. I think he'll make sure Loki gets treatment for what the Mind Stone did to him."

Tony turned around and leaned on the railing, facing the terrace. Steve leaned an elbow on the railing beside him, glancing at the rest of the team as they sat around the firepit, drinking and laughing and enjoying the victory. Rhodey, Banner, Barton and Danvers were there, along with Coulson and Maria. It was strange, how familiar and yet so very different it all was. The group had changed slightly, but at the same time the relief at having won the day was exactly the same.

"You sure about keeping the Tesseract here on Earth?" Tony asked.

"No, I'm not," Steve said. "But leaving it on Asgard is just asking for trouble. It's not as secure as they think it is. And there are things coming on Asgard that will make it even less secure. You sure it's a good idea to give the Wakandan's both the Stones?"

"I trust them more than I trust myself," Tony said. "They're not going to experiment with it, and they have the best chance of anyone on this planet to hide it away from prying eyes. When Thanos comes looking for them—and he will—we'll be able to set the time and place for the battle. Apart from our new little superhero club, I trust the Wakandan warriors to have my back. It'll be fine."

"I believe you, Tony," Steve said. "And I trust you. But that's three Infinity Stones on Earth. I just hope it won't backfire on us."

"If we need to, we can call on the Ancient One, though I'd rather put that meeting off for as long as possible," Tony said, shivering slightly. "That woman gives me the creeps."

"She's… interesting, that's for sure," Steve said. "She offered to help us, if we needed it. At least, the Ancient One I met in the other timeline did. I have to believe she'd make the same offer in this timeline."

"Not sure invoking that voodoo that she do is all that necessary," Tony said. "Hopefully she won't lecture you for changing the timeline, or some such."

"That was partly her idea, so it would be a little hypocritical for her to lecture me," Steve said.

"Alright, I'll leave that in your hands, then," Tony said. "Now, what say we rejoin the celebration. I hate being a wallflower at my own party."

Steve just chuckled. "If you're planning to try to drink me under the table, I have to warn you I can't get drunk anymore. My body metabolizes alcohol too fast."

"A fact for which I am deeply sorry," Tony said. "Getting blind drunk so I won't remember what it was like to fly through one of those Leviathans sounds like a really good idea right about now."

"Hmmm," Steve said as they walked across the terrace to rejoin the rest of the team. "Sounds like I need to reach out to a friend. He's a counselor with the VA. We could probably use someone like him around here."

"Oh, fuck no," Tony said. "I hate shrinks."

"He's also a former Air Force Pararescue jumper," Steve said. "He was part of a project that used wingpacks instead of parachutes."

"I think I remember something about that project," Tony said. "Wait, is this a guy you know now, or a guy you used to know back in the old timeline?"

"The old timeline," Steve said. "But I'm sure we'll be friends again in this one. He's a good guy; I think he'd fit in well around here."

"Give me his name and I'll look him up," Tony said. "If nothing else, I want to see this wingpack in action. J, see if you can dig up the plans and get started on fabrication."

"As you wish, sir," JARVIS said.

"Let's hope he's also interested in becoming a superhero," Steve said sardonically.

"He's gonna love it," Tony said with all the considerable bravado he could muster.

Steve laughed as they rejoined the group.

~o~

Steve stood at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the New York Sanctuary, overwhelmed by the sense of déjà vu. The last time he'd been to visit the Masters of the Mysterious Arts, it had been to return the Time Stone and confer with the Ancient One. If events had played out the same in this new timeline, she'd been gone for a year and he'd find Doctor Strange as the new Sorcerer Supreme.

He really had no idea how Strange would react to his visit, or if he'd even be willing to talk. But Steve felt like he had to try. He needed to know if the timeline was stable, and Strange was the only one he could ask. Otherwise, all the effort and pain he'd gone through would be for nothing.

He took a deep breath and walked up the steps. Just as he reached the top of the stairs, the doors swung open. Steve shook his head, chuckling quietly. It seemed no matter who was in charge, they were all the same.

He entered the foyer and just stood, arms crossed, waiting for someone to come to him or—and this was more likely—move him to the room of their preference for this meeting. After several long minutes, a portal finally opened up. Steve resisted the urge to step through it; eventually it moved to him, transporting him to the Ancient One's office. 

Instead of the female sorcerer, he found Stephen Strange standing in the room, arms crossed as he stared Steve down.

"Captain Rogers," Strange said, inclining his head in acknowledgment.

"Doctor Strange," Steve said. He dropped his hands to his sides. "I'm hoping you'll be willing to answer a question for me. Probably more than one, but I'll start with one."

"And if I refuse?" Strange asked.

"Look, it's not like I can make you talk to me," Steve said, huffing in frustration. "And I know you could just… move me someplace else if you don't want to. But I've come a long way, and I need to know—I just need to know."

"You need to know if the timeline is stable," Strange said. 

"Yes, I do," Steve said.

"Time is a very peculiar thing," Strange said. "No one should have too much knowledge of events outside their own lifetime. Such knowledge can be dangerous."

"Yeah, well, I'm not exactly as young as I look," Steve said. 

"No, you're not," Strange said speculatively. Steve raised an eyebrow. "You have time magic clinging to you. And the magic of my mentor as well."

"Then you probably know that I'm not originally from this timeline," Steve said.

"Yes, I do know," Strange said. "She helped you change time. Sent you back through time using the Time Stone. Why?"

Steve tucked his hands into his pockets. Even all these years later, it was still hard to talk about the events that led to him going back in time.

"Because Thanos got ahold of all six Stones and snapped half of all living beings out of existence," Steve said. "Then he used the Stones again to destroy the Stones. He said it was because he didn't want to be tempted to use them again."

"But destroying the Stones would destabilize the universe," Strange said, frowning in apparent consternation. "Which is why the Ancient One used the Time Stone to send you back. So you could change time—create a new timeline—and potentially save the universe."

"Yeah, that about sums it up," Steve said. "She told me that if I used the device we created to travel through time, I wouldn't be able to affect the timeline. The only way to make changes that would stick would be to use the Time Stone."

"Which means she believed that your reasoning for travelling back in time was sound," Strange said. 

"She did," Steve said. "So, do you believe me?"

Strange stared at him for the space of a few heartbeats. "I do."

He swept his hand through the air, the gesture so similar to the Ancient One that Steve felt a momentary pang of regret for her loss. The timeline spun out in front of him, extending from the bright beginning much the way it had the last time he'd seen it. His eyes followed the timeline all the way across the room as it flowed away from them. The far end was still chaotic, but instead of a mass of grey, there were some bright yellows, reds and oranges twining through the grey. There was a branch extending from the main timeline, but it was an opaque grey, as though it were simply… fading away.

"So, it's okay?" Steve asked quietly.

"It would appear that the timeline is stabilizing," Strange said. "This branch is fading. I suspect within another year or two it will be completely gone."

"Why so long?" Steve asked. He'd thought that the old timeline would simply disappear once disaster had been averted. Of course, they hadn't actually stopped Thanos yet, so maybe that was why.

"Events have yet to unfold that will completely destroy the old timeline," Strange said, confirming Steve's speculation. "As long as you are able to prevent Thanos from gaining control of the Stones, the old timeline should completely disappear."

Steve closed his eyes, the relief of knowing they were so close almost too much. When he opened them, it was to find Strange watching him, open curiosity in his eyes.

"Can you tell me if we'll succeed?" Steve asked.

"Future knowledge is dangerous," Strange said. "As you well know."

"Yeah, I do know," Steve said. "I've tried to be judicious. About who knows what I know and how much they know."

"As well you should," Strange said. "Knowing that, I can tell you that there are paths forward that will end with you successfully stopping Thanos. There are also paths where you will not succeed. You must be prepared to make the choices that will lead you down the correct path. And though I cannot tell you what those choices are, I can tell you that you are on the correct path. If you say the course, you will succeed."

"Thank you," Steve said. "We worried that keeping the Stones here on Earth was dangerous, but I can't see letting them leave the planet. At least here, we have a measure of control over when and where we face Thanos."

"Setting the terms of the next engagement is critical to your success, Captain," Strange said.

"And if Thanos does come here, can we count on you to help?" Steve said. He glanced at the Time Stone, encased within the Eye of Agamatto.

"I and those of my Order are tasked with protecting Earth," Strange said. "We will be ready when you call."

"Thank you," Steve said again. "That's all I can ask."

~o~


End file.
